Serenity, Nevada
by Christina K
Summary: Oz’s summer road trip takes him to a sleepy little town in Nevada-- one that just woke up with a big new problem, and the local sheriff and citizens may have to face a reality they never expected before the closing credits. Crossover with Firefly
1. Chapter 1

Thanks to Perri, Celli, Tara, the other Horsechicks for comments and editing, and Em for brainstorming. This story was partially written more than five years ago; I pick it up now so as to finally finish this sucker.

_Disclaimers:_ I own neither Mutant Enemy Production, nor the cast of characters. Nevada does not host a town called Serenity, nor are the denizens of Nevada accurately represented here. All legal and police procedural mistakes are my own.

No jackalopes were harmed in the making of this story.

_Spoilers: _Summer 2003, Post-"Chosen" but no Season 8 spoilers for _Buffy_. And no real spoilers for_ Firefly_, aside from the characters' existence.

_Summary: _Oz's summer road trip takes him to a sleepy little town in Nevada-- one that just woke up with a big new problem, and the local sheriff and citizens may have to face a reality they never expected before the closing credits.

**

* * *

Serenity, Nevada**

_By_

_Christina K_

_Copyright 2008_

1. _  
_

"Hunh. That's... interesting."

Sheriff Malcolm Reynolds stared down at Terence McDonald's body, tilted his head in consideration, and tapped the gun at his hip. "Zoe, you wanna say what you make of this?"

"Can't say as I do, sir."

"Jayne? You ever seen this before?"

"Hell no. Damn creepy, but it ain't familiar."

"Right. So that leaves you as my last resort here, Doc. Please tell me that you've seen this kinda dried-up, pasty-faced, sucked-out corpse before in the big city. That it's some kinda virus you've got a vaccine for in your fancy clinic stores. Notice I'm saying 'please', and keep in mind how often I use language like that."

The young man crouched by the dead body shook his head in slow amazement. "I wish I could, Sheriff, but honestly, this is a first. I'm just surprised the deterioration hasn't advanced further, but I have to put that down to the lack of fluid left within the cell tissues, as well as the dry weather we've been experiencing lately—"

"Ain't much in the way of flies, neither." Jayne toed at McDonald's leg with his boot and earned himself a glare from the coroner.

"Flies are attracted to blood, and seein' as how this man doesn't have any left to offer, I can see why he don't have many customers." Mal pushed his hat back and squinted at the smashed furniture and belongings in the small house, noting that everything breakable had been shattered, all items that could be ripped were torn apart, and that remnants of a fire were still smoldering on the back porch. If it hadn't been for last night's quick burst of a thunderstorm, the place would probably have been consumed by morning. It was purely malicious, pointless destruction, like leaving the owner's body on the porch in a heap for the paperboy to find when the sun came up.

It was also something he'd seen before, and had hoped to never see again.

"Who the hell would want to kill Terence?" he wondered aloud. "Harmless old guy livin' alone, keeps to himself, doesn't go pissin' off his neighbors... It don't make sense."

"The Johnsons up the road say they saw Terence get home around ten, but they didn't notice anyone stop by the house later. Of course, they go to bed early, and if Doc's right and this happened around midnight or so, they would've been tucked in bed with their hearing aids off by then." Zoe adjusted her reflective sunglasses. She was not meeting his eyes, Mal noticed. Probably for the same reason he was avoiding hers.

They watched the part-time deputies seal the front-door with crime-scene yellow tape as her husband zipped the body into a bag and motioned for Jayne to help him load it in the ambulance before his Chief Deputy spoke again, her voice carefully neutral. "Dispatch says there's a Nevada State Police bulletin that just hit your desk; it mentions there've been three-four of these in the last few days, just south of here. Most likely a serial killer, working his way north, they've been keepin' it quiet, and could we keep our eyes open for him, please."

"And we didn't get this sooner than today? Ain't that just peachy." Mal restrained the urge to spit with disgust. Serial killers. Could the NBI maybe be more stupid if they tried just a little harder? "Goddamn State Police are never any help, but they're always wantin' us to pick up their slack, as bad as the Feds... Zoe, remind me again, why do I have this job?"

"Public service, sir."

"No, that can't be it."

"Twenty-eight dollars an hour and benefits?"

"No, no, that's nice, but that wasn't it."

"Free beer at Silverheels Bar & Grill," Jayne volunteered, stalking back toward the jeep.

"Maybe." The Sheriff sounded doubtful.

"You didn't want one of Vince Niska's relatives to get the job," Wash volunteered as he climbed into the ambulance and slammed the door, then fired up the engine. "And nobody else did, either. You swept the election without having to campaign."

"Now, was that a nice thing to remind him of?" Zoe scolded her husband, leaning in the open window and pecking him on the cheek as she went by.

"So you're sayin' I got no one to blame but myself?" Mal asked plaintively as he followed his deputies back to the jeep.

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"Damn. I'm thinking Silverheels should be throwing in free onion rings. Bloodless bodies and serial killers and such-like. Add in the Mayor, and I am not gettin' paid enough for this crap." All of which kept him from swearing out long curses in Arabic, the ones he'd learned in that hell-hole bar twelve years ago. Because damnit, that was a long time ago, and there was no reason to remember why he and Zoe had been drinking back then, and learning those curses.

None at all.

* * *

The sounds of the fight could've been heard from a half a mile away, if anyone else had been in that patch of desert to listen to them. The half-moon was still falling slowly down a patch of sky over the Sierra Nevada, and the sands weren't hot enough yet for all of the creatures to be under shelter from the sun; but any that could hear what was happening in the dry creek bed off State Highway 95 had scampered away as fast as possible hours ago.

Feathers floated up on the air, along with small tufts of fur, accompanied by growling. Bird-like screams, pitched somewhere between a peacock and a hawk, pierced the silence occasionally, along with the impact of flesh hitting flesh, hissing noises, and a random canine yelp. Panting, harsh and fast, then another spate of screeching and snarls. Sand was being kicked up twenty feet high, and the air carried the smell of blood. The fight had been going on for hours.

Finally, one last, prolonged shriek vibrated through the desert, shutting off even the insects chirping a quarter mile away. Stillness, ominous and deadly, settled back in, and the feathers drifted down like snowflakes, a few spiraling down with a gust of wind before hitting dust.

Several long, nervous minutes later, a naked young man climbed out of the creek-bed, brushing sand out of the scratches on his chest, and spitting feathers out of his teeth. Squinting up at the sun, he put up a hand to shade his eyes and tried to remember where he'd parked his van.

"Mountains. Cacti. Big red stone... Right. West."

He shrugged all over in a manner not dissimilar to a dog twitching water out of its fur, and began carefully walking toward the rest stop he'd parked at the night before. He really hoped no one else was there at the moment; confronting strangers without his clothes was always... challenging. Maybe he'd be able to tell them he was on a vision quest, and the worst he'd have to deal with was some embarrassment. Hopefully.

That one other time before he'd mastered the changes, when he'd been caught outside his van in Peoria, had been really awkward.

Daniel Osbourne - Oz to everyone he knew, including his parents, who'd given up on calling him Daniel when he played deaf for a month to any other name than the one he'd chosen when he was twelve - settled into a mild jog as he headed back to his long-term home and shelter, feeling rueful. He hadn't meant to get into a fight with a mutant cross between the Road Runner and a pterodactyl the night before, but the thing had been sneaking up on some campers a little way down the road. And it wasn't like High School, when he could've called up Buffy and everyone else, and they would have shown up with tranquilizers or crossbows and taken the thing out. He really wished he hadn't used up the last of his crossbow bolts in Tucson. But that bar bet had been too good to pass up. So that left him to make like Wile E. Coyote in order to keep the thing from lunching on tourists, since there hadn't been a Ranger station to call for help anywhere nearby.

Oh, well. At least now he had a new answer to 'why did the chicken cross the road'... 'To get takeout on the other side.' He grinned. He'd have to remember that one for Xander, next time he saw him.

Much to Oz's great relief, the rest area was deserted when he got back, and he was able to slip into his van and pull on a pair of jeans before having to deal with anyone else. He turned on the air conditioning for several minutes, reveling in the blast of cold air as he centered himself.

It was always hard, coming back from being the wolf. Especially someplace like out here, with only wilderness for miles, no people to set off his aggressive instincts... just this feeling of being _free_, and a wide, wide sky to follow to the horizon...

He snapped his eyes open again. "No."

Oz. Oz. Oz. He could be the wolf now, sometimes, when it was safe, when he chose and not just keep it locked away. He could admit that it was as much a part of him as his fingernails and the desire to discuss the perfect guitar pick with Santana. The things he'd learned in Tibet, in Belarus, in Istanbul, in Macedonia-- it all stayed with him. He was the wolf. The wolf was him. Control himself and he controlled the wolf.

It was just hard, sometimes.

But he was out here for a reason, not to go primeval. Looked like Giles had been right: this part of Nevada was... funky. Not really like Sunnydale, just a very weird vibe. Kinda like the Bermuda Triangle, but not.

Maybe the next town would have more definite answers to the new Watcher Council's questions. Pulling on a T-shirt then fumbling on his shades, Oz turned on the ignition and put the van in gear, turning onto the highway after waiting for the traffic to pass, and headed north. He glanced at the sign at the side of the road, and nodded in approval.

**Hawthorne 135  
Reno 256**

And under that, in much smaller paint: _Serenity, Nevada. 15 miles. A great place to take a break!_


	2. Chapter 2

Mal was not in a great mood when he got back into the station house, but he was determinedly ignoring why that was, and concentrating on just being mad at the Nevada State Police. Three days and they hadn't bothered to send a head's up before this. Whoever killed Terence McDonald (_whatever_, he thought, then stifled the thought fast) would've been in a straight line to go east through to Tonopah, then on to who knew where outside his jurisdiction. If they'd gone a little farther west, they'd be at Serenity, and a lot farther within it. There were times being a Nye County Mountie was no fun at all, 'cause he didn't just have Serenity to worry about, he had the whole damn surrounding area to give him headaches. Somewhere out there in the desert, the person (_thing_) that killed Terence was hiding, just waiting its time to kill again. And he didn't have damn near enough manpower to deal with it.

Well, at least he wasn't likely to pass the killer on the street at high noon. Half a glass was better than none, right?

"Sheriff? Uh, you got a visitor waiting in your office, sir." Civilian Aide Cheryl Butler's eyes were big and nervous, and she looked like she'd been chewing her nails again. Nineteen, smart as a whip and twice as pretty, but nervy as a canary in a coal mine. It was kind of like having an early warning system for when things were going bad, having her around; the worse things got, the more she shredded her manicure. You could walk in the door and immediately know how many drunks were in the tank by how flaked her nail polish was.

"Do I wanna know who? 'Cause if I don't wanna know, I'm turning around and going fishin'. It's already been one heckuva day, Cheryl."

"Ummm..."

"It's just me, Mal."

He winced as the cool voice floated out from his office, then smiled painfully at Cheryl, who ducked her head. "Didn't I tell you never to let her in again?"

"But she's the Mayor, sir! She pays my salary!"

"Now that is blatantly untrue, Cheryl. The good people of the town of Serenity pay your salary. Madam the Mayor," he said, raising his voice tauntingly, "just signs the checks. It is not the same thing at all."

Inara Serra came to the door of his office, looking as perfect and composed as a magazine glossy pictorial and just as untouchable. Say whatever else you wanted about the woman - that she was a corporation-loving gold-digger with no respect for the way things were done in Serenity, for instance, like he often did - she knew how to dress. He was already feelin' the heat at ten in the morning, and standing there in violet silk and gold, she looked like she was on her way to a cocktail party about to be served chilled champagne. It was annoying, and frankly, she was making him wish for a drink right now. She often did, for many different reasons.  


"I heard the news on the radio dispatch. Terence McDonald was murdered last night?" the Mayor asked, her face only showing concern.

"Yeah. Paperboy out of Tonopah found his body, and his dad called it in. Afraid he won't be making it to the next town council meeting, so you'll have less backing for your resort idea when it comes up," Mal responded, picking up a bunch of mail off Cheryl's desk and rifling through it, just to get on Madam Mayor's nerves.

"That wasn't what I was worried about. Is there-- do you know who did this? Do you have any suspects?" she asked, her fingers twisting together.

Her face never gave her away, and her voice was always just as smooth and creamy, but when she was real upset, her hands gave Inara away-- a tell Mal wasn't about to reveal he knew about, in case he needed it someday. Today, it just made him mad that she was upset, then mad at himself that he was concerned about Mrs. Serra being upset, then madder that he didn't have any good answers for her or anyone else who'd be asking him real soon. And wasn't likely to, either.

"We just picked up the body, Mrs. Serra, and I am not gonna speculate about the identity of the killer until the Doc's had a chance to do an autopsy, and the fingerprints come back from Terence's place, and I've had a chance to sit down and think for a spell. So no, I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know who do this, I don't have any suspects, and I would appreciate you not lookin' over my shoulder every five minutes while I'm tryin' to do my job!"

"I didn't mean to imply any criticism of you, Sheriff," she said icily. "I was concerned for the general public's safety and what I'm going to tell the press. You can't believe I thought you'd solved it barely an hour after the call came in."

"I don't know what you believe in, Mrs. Serra. Seems to me, you're likely to believe that a murder's not good publicity and you'll want me to solve this as quick as possible just to keep Serenity looking like the perfect place for the next Lake Tahoe."

"Just because I want this town to prosper does not make me a heartless witch, Malcolm Reynolds. I care about the people here just as much as you do. Maybe I didn't grow up here, and maybe I'm not carrying a gun, but that doesn't mean I don't have their best interests at heart--"

He was just about to shoot back with a nasty retort about 'best interests' when Jayne and Zoe walked into the bullpen, Zoe's husband trailing along behind and collapsing into one of the visitor's chairs in front of Cheryl's desk. Giving the little face-off with the Mayor a wide-eyed look of mock concern, Wash leaned toward the teen to stage-whisper a question. "They pull out the big guns yet, Cheryl? Because I could swear I hear _High Plains Drifter_ echoing on the wind."

Zoe's mouth twitched as she sat on the edge of Cheryl's desk, Jayne grinned sardonically, and Cheryl giggled as the tension in the room eased off a bit, Inara looking embarrassed and Mal feeling kind of stupid. It was stupid to let her get to him, stupid to pick fights with her when he was mad about something else, and especially stupid when she'd hadn't done anything to really piss him off again. Lately.

"Sorry if I was casting you as the Wicked Witch of the West, Mrs. Serra. This thing has got me on edge. But we don't know anything yet, and it's going to take a while. We got too much area to canvass to find any suspects, so if you don't mind..." Mal hinted, rocking back on his heels and nodding toward the door.

She nodded, then smiled slightly, her voice cajoling. "You do realize, that if there was more money coming into Serenity, we could afford to hire more deputies--"

"Just can't let it go, can you?" See, and this was what made him crazy about her. No, this was the thing about Inara Serra that **made him crazy,** not the other way around. "If we had more money and more people coming in, we'd have more headaches, more transients, more drug traffic, Niska'd be pushing even more than he is, and frankly, I do not need those kinda complications! Things are nice and smooth now - well, except for Terence - and I aim to keep 'em that way!"

"But more officers with real law enforcement experience could only make this easier--"

"'Real law enforcement experience?'"

Zoe winced. "Oh, Inara," she muttered under her breath.

Mal's voice was very pleasant as he replied, but he could see Inara's spine stiffening as he spoke. "You see if you can seduce anyone with 'real law enforcement experience' into coming out to this place when you build it up into a tourist trap - but if you don't mind, I have work to do. I am in charge here, this is the Sheriff's office, and I am the Sheriff. Shoot, I didn't even vote for you. Nobody in this office voted for you. Zoe, did you vote for this woman?"

"I can't say sir, since all votes are confidential--" Zoe tried to answer diplomatically.

"She didn't vote for you, she just don't want to hurt your feelings. Jayne, did you vote for Madam Mayor?"

Jayne looked up from where he'd been picking his nails with a knife, startled. "I voted?"

Mal grinned in triumph. "There ya go--"

"**I** voted for you," Wash piped up. Cheryl smothered another laugh as Zoe patted her husband on the head.

Mal glared at him, as Inara hid a smile. "You hush. You're Emergency Services, not County Police, and she can go visit the ESO office any day she likes." He turned back to his nemesis, crossing his arms. "The point is, I got voted in, and you got voted in, so we are equals, and I am at least in charge of this jail, so I am telling you to git. So, Madam Mayor Ma'am. Git!"

"I can see you're in no mood for a sensible discussion. And I know you have difficult duties to perform. So I'll consider this topic tabled until the next County Public Meeting." She smiled gently at Zoe and Wash, slightly more kindly at Cheryl. "Always nice to see you, Zoe. Wash. Officer Jayne. Cheryl, you're doing a very good job. Don't let your boss tell you otherwise." She sailed out the door without a backward glance, leaving Mal to fume silently at her parting shot.

"I never said you were doing a bad job, Cheryl."

Cheryl yanked a thumbnail out of her mouth. "No sir, you never did."

"I ain't mad you let her in. She's intimidating, I do get that. Just next time? Call me so's I can avoid her."

"Yes, sir. I'll do that sir."

"Good girl." He sighed, then glared pointedly at Wash. "'I voted for you?'"

"Well, I did. Clement Ryce was senile."

"You still didn't have to vote for her!"

"If it helps, I voted for you too," Wash offered.

"Not right now it doesn't. Right now I'd give this job to the next village idiot who applies." He rubbed a hand across his face, then grimaced. "I'm goin' over to the morgue, I wanna see if the Doc's learned anything. Zoe, call me if the Nevada State Police come up with anything new for us, all right? Jayne, I want you out on the highway, patrolling. We gotta show a presence. Understood?"

"Not really." Jayne looked like he was trying to think, never a pretty sight. "You thinkin' I should be looking for serial killer types, or just scaring the tourists?"

"Just patrol, Jayne. No scaring anybody, but keep your eyes open for..." Hell. If he was right, there was no point, but he had to have Jayne do something. Or they'd both go crazy. "It's necessary." Mal stalked out the door, calling over his shoulder, "Zoe, you're in charge. Make your husband bring you tacos, 'cause you won't be goin' out to lunch."

"Yes sir," she said resignedly as he stepped back out into the heat.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Pulling off the highway at the exit to Serenity, Oz noted the SuperPumper truck pavilion at the turnoff, followed by a few miles of straight single-lane road before the first houses were visible. A couple old stone buildings on the outskirts were boarded up and looked abandoned; a typical boom-bust town, with over-development balanced out by bright signs and better-kept Spanish-style and modern buildings farther in. There probably wasn't even a Starbucks within fifty miles of the place.

He hit the main traffic circle at the center of Serenity, and slowly drove around the bubbling red stone fountain at its heart while he considered his options, trying to figure out where to stop. He finally settled on Frye's Mechanics, right next to what appeared to be the County emergency services building, and turned off after one more spin around the Town Circle-Square.

A cheerful-looking girl about his own age came out of the shop as he turned off the engine, wiping her hands off on a towel and studying his van. "Hey there. You lookin' for a tune-up, or something fancy? We got a waiting list 'til Wednesday if it's worse than an oil leak, just so's you know."

"No problems. Just wanting directions. And maybe some advice."

She looked intrigued, her face lighting up in a grin. "Hey, I love givin' advice! 'Cept if it's not about cars or engines, I can't guarantee it's the best you'll get. I'm Kaylee, by the way. Whatcha want to know?" Under the grease and the coveralls, Oz caught a hint of strawberry perfume, and her shiny red-brown hair reminded him of Willow, just a little bit, bringing out one of his rare smiles in return.

"Oz," he said, pointing to himself, then shrugged. "And a good place to stay. Someplace private, like a B and B?" Certain lessons died very hard, and the ones Sunnydale taught never died at all. He might be safer than most people, but there was no reason to tempt fate or the appetites of people who'd want to gnaw on his neck, however unlikely that might be in a town as small as this one.

Kaylee looked doubtful. "Well, we only got one bed and breakfast, Mrs. Sanderson's on the east side... and it's kinda expensive. Most people just camp out at the edge of the wilderness reserve west of town, it's free and there's water hook-ups at the park. You plannin' on staying long?"

"Not sure yet."

"Hunh. Well, if you can afford it, I don't think she's full up, 'cause that only happens when the protesters need a place to stay--"

"Protesters?"

"For the Nevada Test Site. You know, in August? For the anniversary of the H-bomb. They come in from all over the place, most of them stay in Beatty, but we get some overspill. It's kinda fun, like a hippie festival," she added, dimpling. "But that's not for another month yet, so she shouldn't be too booked, I don't think."

"Cool," he said, walking over to the Coke machine to feed it a few quarters, thinking this over. It'd be harder to keep a low profile if Serenity didn't get many visitors, but on the other hand, the fewer people who noticed something new and weird going on, the better. Giles and the Coven hadn't been too clear themselves on what was up, so maybe it was just an outbreak of monsters in the desert. In which case, calling them would be the fast, straightforward solution to dealing with whatever-it-was, once he was sure it was that simple.

"So, whatcha doing in Serenity?" the girl asked, polishing an engine part and watching him drink the Coke.

"Tourist thing. Passing through."

"There's not a whole lot to see here," Kaylee admitted, hanging the towel up on one of the equipment racks and looking apologetic. "I mean, we got some historical buildings and all, but they don't have plaques on them. And the gold mines don't have tour guides. But we do have jackalopes, and some other critters," she said, brightening up again. "You like wildlife?"

"It's of interest." He frowned. "Jackalopes?"

She nodded vehemently. "Don't let anybody tell you they don't exist, 'cause they do. I've seen 'em."

"Not doubting you." Especially not after the lizard-bird he'd run into in the desert. "Just surprised."

"I almost caught one the other day, but they're fast little suckers. If the Sheriff would let me learn to use a gun, I'd be able to get one, but he says he's not teaching me 'til I pass the written test, and I keep forgettin' to take it," she said, looking mournful. "Between helping my daddy with the shop here, and working with the Public Works crew, I just don't have time to study."

"I get that. Tests were never my priority, either."

"'Xactly." She grinned. "So what kinda priorities do you have? What would you like to see while you're stayin' here?"

"Hm... Music? Got any good bars or clubs? Anyone looking for a bassist?"

She snorted. "You're kidding, right?"

"I know the deadpan makes it sound like I should be. But no."

"We got the Silverheels, which has a jukebox with everything Elvis every wrote or sang, Helen Wheels', which plays mostly Ozzie and AC/DC for the lame biker wannabes who blow through, and J.D.'s Place, which ain't bad, but J.D. only likes country & western. If you wanna hear rock recorded after 1985, you gotta go down to Pahrump."

"Hunh." Disappointing, but not exactly unexpected. Hopefully he wouldn't be here long enough for the dearth of good music to get him down. At least he had enough CD's in the van to keep him sane.

"Say, is your name really Oz? Or is that a musician thing?" she asked suddenly, hands on her hips.

"Pretty much. I have first name issues."

"So it's kind of like Prince? Or Sting. Or Madonna," she said speculatively.

"More like Bono. At least, that's the theory."

"Hunh." She squinted at him. "You don't talk much, do you?"

"I do in some circumstances."

"What kind of circumstances?"

"Heavy intoxication and toad-licking."

"Toad-licking?!" she spluttered, giggling.

"It's an ugly story. Mexico, stoned lead singer, complimentary drinks, bar bet. Never drink anything they serve in Chacapulta."

Kaylee went off into more giggles at this, and Oz allowed himself another small smile as the phone rang in the County shop next door. Kaylee rolled her eyes. "'Scuse me, I gotta get that, Dwayne's not in today, and the other guys are out painting the streets-- I'll get you directions to Mrs. Sanderson's in a second," she said, striding off to grab the receiver. "Kaylee, County Shop. You break 'em, we scrape 'em..."

Oz turned away for a second, studying the layout of the town square, and noticed that there seemed to be a crowd gathering a few blocks over. A sudden indrawn breath from Kaylee turned him around again, wondering what was up. "She isn't. Tell me she-- oh, man... Okay. I'll be there in a heartbeat. Just don't let her get hurt before I get there with the rig! And page Wash so he'll be there to meet me!" She hung up the phone and rushed past Oz to lock up the office to the shop, throwing words over her shoulder as she buzzed by him on the way back.

"I'm sorry, it's an emergency, I gotta get back to you later--"

"Can I help?" he asked, wondering what was going on.

"Oh, could you? I wouldn't ask, only the guys won't be back here in time, and the emergency set-up really takes at least four people, and-- thanks, just jump in, I'll explain as we go!" she said, waving him into one of the County trucks.

"Somebody hurt?"

"Not yet. I hope. I pray. Oh, River honey, what are you getting yourself into now?" she muttered under her breath as the truck hit the street.

* * *

"This is not what I went to medical school for," Simon muttered quietly.

Although to be perfectly fair (and he always tried to be perfectly fair, knowing in how many different ways he was luckier than most), it wasn't so much that Simon had never wanted to be a medical examiner, as he'd never wanted to be an underpaid, and more importantly, _under-equipped_ medical examiner.

"So what did you go to Harvard for? Shiny BMW's and stock options? 'Cause if you talk to the Mayor, maybe she can getcha one of the shop's used 4X4's."

Simon glared at the Sheriff, then returned to sewing up the torso of Terence McDonald's corpse. "No. Thank you. That's not what I meant. And it was Johns Hopkins."

"Riiight. The fancier one. Top one percent of your class, I remember."

He was not going to respond to that. He just wasn't. The Sheriff was missing the point, as he often did. And most often, as far as Simon could tell, he did so deliberately.

Living patients had always fascinated him more than those he couldn't help, that was part of the problem. But there was something to be said for the forensic puzzles of mysterious death. But not when Simon didn't have access to a full lab, not when he didn't have the first clue where to start, and most especially not when Malcolm Reynolds was peering over his shoulder the whole time.

"Did that fancy school ever cover anything like our dead body here?"

"Frankly, no." Simon didn't look up, just concentrated on making the stitches neat and precise as he spoke. "I don't have an even slightly coherent picture regarding the circumstances of this man's death. I just have a smattering of facts which don't fit together. So I can't give you a plausible description for the means or purpose behind this murder, which I'm finding irritating on several levels."

"Sorry, Doc. Next time, we'll try to get you a more plausible corpse. But this is the one I've got for you now. So... what do we know?"

Simon tied off the last stitch, cut the thread and straightened with a sigh. "Time of death, approximately 1 a.m., give or take half an hour, as I estimated previously. Cause of death: exsanguination." At Mal's oh-so-patient look, Simon rolled his eyes. "Blood loss from the neck and arms, due to what appear to be animal or insect bites, but which are the wrong size for anything I've ever seen. Or studied. Or heard about. The body was moved post-mortem, but even that doesn't explain the lack of blood on the premises."

Troubled, Simon studied the victim's slack face and pale skin, trying to fit the pieces together. "He lost over six pints of blood. That volume should at least have left a few blood spots elsewhere in the house, spillage, splashing... but there was nothing at the scene, and aside from the skin around his wounds, there's nothing on the body. They must have taken it with them, for whatever reason. I did find some blood in his mouth-- I think he was trying to fight back, he has defensive wounds on his arms, so he might have bit them while trying to get free. I'm running a DNA and tox screen on it to see if anything comes up that might be useful to the state police, but..."

He stripped off his gloves, shaking his head. "It had to be at least two people, to judge from the damage. Maybe with some kind of needle? And a pump? Except these are not needle marks, they're bites, and..." Simon paused again, frustrated anew. "What did they do with blood?"

He looked up at the Sheriff, half-hoping the man would have some idea of their killer's motives, but if he did, it wasn't discernible through the man's poker face. "That about it?" Malcolm asked, deadpan.

Simon resisted the urge to pitch the gloves in the man's face. "Yes. That's it until the tox screen comes back from the lab. Which won't be for another six days, because we don't have the full roster of personnel--"

"I want you to be here around 8 p.m. tonight. Better make it quarter to eight, at that," Reynolds said, interrupting him as if he hadn't recognized Simon's incipient rant about the laboratory conditions. Usually that kind of slight was good for starting an argument with the man. Strange.

"I can't be here, we're having dinner with the Mayor," he responded, zipping up the body bag around Mr. McDonald and turning away to clean the instruments. "And why do you want me here, anyway?"

The Sheriff ignored the question and focused on what interested him; typical. "Dinner with the Mayor. Hunh. Are you now." Simon didn't need to look to know that Mal's eyes were narrowing. "Seems you and Mrs. Serra are getting to be... good friends. That's the third time you've been over there this month."

_And you've been counting, why?_ Simon snarked to himself, but knew better than to say. "She's a nice woman, and I do consider us friends. But the dinners are mostly for River's benefit. She likes Inara's ballroom. It really brings her out of herself to let her have the space to dance. The Mayor's been a big help with her since we've been here."

"So've I, you'll remember," Mal said in a warning tone.

"Yes, you have. As much as you could be, anyway." Again, laboring under the handicap of fairness prevented Simon from pointing out that Sheriff Reynolds had ulterior motives in helping Simon and River. Concealing their identities and whereabouts from the private investigators and federal warrants that were out for them, had allowed him to obtain a decent medical examiner for Serenity and a qualified doctor for the local free clinic. He might have had **some** altruistic reasons-- Simon did believe that Mal almost liked River, in the way one liked a slightly cross-eyed kitten that walked into walls-- but that wouldn't have been enough for him to basically commit a felony, and enlist the rest of Serenity's police personnel in continuing it.

And fairness stopped where River was concerned. So Simon was not about to forget that their deal went both ways. Mal had almost as much to lose after two years of lies as Simon did.

"And I'm grateful for that help. But River comes first. Of course, if we had better facilities here-- say a full hospital-- I could spend more time on County requests, as well as guarantee more help for my sister--"

"I've told you and told you, I haven't made up my mind about that hospital yet. Stop pushin'. I ain't certain the pluses of a hospital don't outweigh the minuses of more population, which is what we'd need to justify it." Mal let out an aggravated breath, then brightened. "Course, I might go a ways to supportin' the idea if you were to be here at 8 p.m. tonight, like I just asked."

"And why--?"

"Never you mind why." At Simon's mulish expression, Mal relented a little. "It's a theory I got. But I don't wanna prejudice you, if I'm wrong. Just... leave your dinner party a little early, that's all I'm askin'."

Interesting. Malcolm Reynolds was asking for once, not ordering, and almost politely too. If he actually had a working theory regarding their murder victim, it might be worth it to show up. "All right." Simon watched Mal warily, noted the way Mal relaxed at his agreement. "But I can't stay for long. I'll be here at a quarter to eight, but I don't like to leave River alone at night for any length of time."

"Yeah, I know. Girl gets into enough trouble before the sun sets. This shouldn't take more'n half an hour."

"Fine, then." Simon pushed his questions aside for later, and then hid a smirk. "Should I bring the Mayor along?"

"Oh, hellfire, no! I can just imagine what she'd--" Mal caught his smothered grin and scowled at him. "That ain't funny, Tam. And today is not the day to be messing with me, today is not a good day at all, I'm not seein' the funny side of anything just now, this is a day where I terrorize tourists and little old ladies pushin' shopping carts--"

A strident ring of the Morgue's phone cut into the Sheriff's usual Inara-inspired rant, and Simon hit the speakerphone without interrupting Mal. "Medical Examiner's office, you're on speakerphone. This is Simon Tam."

"Doc?" Cheryl Butler's voice was high and worried. "Is the Sheriff there?"

"Yes, he's here, Cheryl, let me put him on--"

"No, you should hear this too. We got a problem, downtown, it's your sister."

Mal rubbed his eyes and grimaced. "Oh, hell. Cheryl? Is she messing up the cemetary during daylight now?"

"No, sir."

"Well then, where is she?" Mal had settled in to glare at Simon as if he were considering punching him, firing him, and taking back every half-promise he'd made about the hospital as well as the ones about letting him stay in town; but Simon was too busy stripping off his labcoat and hunting up his medical supply kit to worry about that. _River, what are you doing now? You were doing so much better, what's gone wrong?_

"She's just off of the town square, sir."

"Doing what?"

"Dancing, sir." Cheryl's voice was getting squeakier.

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad. Probably snarling up all three cars on the street, but--"

"She's not on the ground, sir."

Mal closed his eyes. "She's not."

"No, sir. She's, uh, she's up on the bank building. The clock tower."

"The one that's four stories tall?" Simon could feel his stomach plummet through the floor as Mal finally straightened up with something approaching worry.

"That would be the one, Doc. Sorry."

Mal snorted. "Ain't that just... fine. Hunh. Cheryl, why don't you call Wash, tell him we need that trampoline thing for the bungee jumpers who get stupid over at Dixon's Ridge. Doc and I'll meet up with him and Kaylee and see if we can't get Little Miss Catastrophe to come down before she figures out the hard way that she can't fly by thinkin' happy thoughts."

"Yes, sir. I'll tell 'em, sir. Hope your sister's okay, Doc."

"Thank you, Cheryl," Simon said, cutting off the call as he rushed for the door, Mal only two steps behind him.

"You know, Doc, don't take this the wrong way, but I am half hoping your sister cracks her skull open. Because I think we'd all like to know what goes on inside that girl's head."

At any other time, this would've set off a furious objection, several insults, and an inspired defense of River's abilities to take care of herself, but Simon decided to forego all that in favor of letting the Sheriff drive and use the siren to clear the way to stop River's latest demonstration of her unique grip on reality.

_Just hang on, River, don't let go, I'll be there any minute, just hang on..._


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Setting up a crash-cushion for a jumper wasn't as difficult as Oz would have guessed. Once he and Kaylee - and another guy named Wash - had set up the frame for the big red balloon cushion, and hooked the automatic air pump to the blower, it was only a matter of time, careful monitoring and patience before it inflated to half the size of the block. The crowd was a bigger problem. A few police officers had set up a cordon too keep them back, though, and a big guy Kaylee called Jayne was walking the line, scowling at anyone who got too close. And growling at Oz and Kaylee when he tripped over the air hoses.

Even in a small town, human nature held true, everyone gawking and pointing upward, half-horrified and half-thrilled at the spectacle. But at least no one was actually yelling "jump!" the way they would have in New York or Los Angeles. There was excited murmuring, and a lot of craning necks as they watched the girl swoop and twirl along the edge of the man-sized Gothic clock, a gigantic pinwheel of pink-and-purple flashing every time her skirt belled out around her. It wasn't what he would've expected from a possible suicide; she wasn't gathering her nerve, steeling herself to jump. She was more like a high-wire artist performing for a crowd, confident enough to work without a net, wires, or even a partner. Terrifying, but really impressive.

"She's safe now, even if she does slip. Didja remember to tell the Sheriff how to anchor the harness when you took it to him?" Kaylee asked Wash as she shut off the switch to the pump. "He's only had that one course, and he purely hates heights--"

"Zoe's up there with them, she's certified, and she'll make sure he's secure." Wash shaded his eyes as he looked up, then shook his head. "What they really need is a lasso. Or a quiver full of tranquilizer darts."

"You're not funny, Wash. She could get hurt--"

"I'm with the flyboy," Officer Jayne grumbled. "'Bout time we stopped babying that girl and put her in a straitjacket. Stunt like this, gettin' us all out here and the public all riled up, and for what? Little bitty crazy girl who don't know how to use the stairs. It's pure mischief."

"She does this a lot?" Oz asked, squinting upward. Another slow swirl of lavender lace and a dip that had several people in the crowd gasping in excitement and fear, had him tensing in sympathy and trying to track her movements.

"Not anything like this, but sometimes, she gets kinda frisky," Kaylee said, sounding worried. "She danced on top of Jayne's squad car a couple times."

"Left dents in it, too. Kid wears damn heavy boots."

"River's **not** suicidal, you understand," Kaylee said to Oz, glaring at Jayne in passing. "She's just sorta... off."

"See, her brother's the local medico, and he's usually got her on a pretty even keel. But every once in a while, River's gotta bust out like this," Wash commented, sounding amused. "Personally, I think my favorite was when she was breaking into your house to play your CD's, Jayne."

"You wouldn't'a thought it was so funny if she was breakin' into you and Zoe's love-nest, messing around with your stuff," Jayne snarled back.

"That would never happen. River hates technopop. And Zoe specifically asked her not to touch her classical discs."

Oz tilted his head back, following the dizzying progress forty feet above, and pursed his lips in unwilling awe. "She's not scared at all, is she?"

"Doesn't have sense enough for that," Jayne responded. "Girl's gonna get herself killed someday, not knowing when to quit fooling around." He glowered through his mirrored sunglasses. "And there's another one with no sense: that dam' fool brother of hers is gonna join her in a great big splat, if'n he don't hang on right."

"Oh, oh, oh..." Kaylee put her hands over her mouth, then her eyes. "I can't look. Tell me when he's back inside. Tell me when it's over."

"Now you're worried?" Oz asked, intrigued.

"River has wonderful balance," Kaylee said from behind her fingers. "But Simon--"

"Not so much," Wash finished for her.

* * *

Simon swallowed back the dryness in his throat and desperately, deliberately, _did not look down_. Bad enough that the breeze ruffling his hair was too chilly, and that the sounds of traffic were all wrong; he didn't need to actually see how far up he was. No. It didn't matter that he was wearing a safety harness with a high-tension steel wire that was wrapped very tightly around one of the tower girders; every kinesthetic instinct he had told him that there wasn't enough support under his feet, and he should **not** be outside this window. Nevertheless, he was not going back inside until after River was out of danger.

Too bad she was so completely unaware of it. As usual.

"River? How are you feeling?" he called to her, clinging to the edge of the window frame with tight fingertips. "Can you tell me why you're out here?"

"Simon!" She spun in delight, barely inches away from the edge, and his stomach did that little trick of trying to drop through his feet again in response. "You're here, that's perfect!"

"Yes, yes, I'm here. And I'm very worried about you, sweetheart. Could you come inside? Please?"

"River, honey. We're a little concerned that you're not safe out there," Zoe called from inside, her voice as calm and even as any ER nurse's under fire. Simon mentally crossed his fingers and blessed the woman; she was so good at taking River in stride. Maybe this time his sister would react to that, and acquiesce cheerfully; she'd done it before--

"I'm perfectly safe. I'm triumphant!" River proclaimed, swinging by her fingertips from the clock's hands in a way that made him nauseous to watch. So, the Zoe-Calm voice wasn't going to work this time. Damnit.

"River, please don't do that. It's making me sick." And obviously the Worried-Brother voice wasn't doing much either.

"Then don't watch." She rolled her eyes at him, her hands on her hips as she balanced on the tip of one toe. Simon clenched his teeth and met her eyes, stifling the panic the pose inspired in him as she spoke. "It's not dangerous for me, I am completely in control of my weight distribution. I won't fall unless I want to."

"River, get your butt back in here! You're freaking people out, and scaring ten years off your brother to boot! We don't have time for your games!"

Half the time, Mal-Irate-Voice would at least get River to pay attention and readjust her worldview to account for others' frailties. And the other half of the time...

Simon could see the tantrum coming even as she stuck her lip out in a mulish pout. "I was just celebrating. Joy in being alive. Strong. There's nothing wrong in that."

"No, no," he said soothingly. "Nothing at all wrong with that. It's just--"

"It's just that your choice of venue leaves a lot to be desired. If we'd known you wanted a high-wire, we'd've hired you a tent, River." Malcolm stuck his head out the window and glared at her, then lowered his voice to Simon. "Can't you get closer to her, Doc?"

"Do **you** want to try to get her inside, Sheriff?"

"Gimme that extra harness, Zoe." Mal had one hand on the window frame, his jaw set like grim death.

"No! I mean-- no. I can do this. Don't come out here, you'll spook her. Just... give me a minute. Please." Simon steeled himself and let go of the window, slowly standing, matching his posture to River's, trying to fake her calm.

"Look, Simon. Look down."

"River--"

"Isn't it incredible?" She spread her arms out, taking in the entire horizon, her voice hushed. "The light and the people, and the life and the noise. It all weaves together, like a symphony, you can hear it all up here."

For just a second, Simon let himself envy his sister her perception of the world; fractured as it sometimes was, there were moments out on the edge of terror like this, where he _knew_ she was seeing more, feeling more, than he was capable of. Where he could see what she had been two years ago, before whatever horror had shattered her mind, left her grasping at hints and clues of who she used to be. And for just an instant, he saw through her eyes, and it **was** wonderful, it was magic, and the fear got pushed away in favor of the beauty. Serenity, and the golden-red hills of the Sierra Nevada, and the fading clear blue of the horizon, and the feeling that you could look off the edge of the world from up here.

"It's... marvelous," he said, very softly. "You're right."

River's gleeful look of victory allowed him to relax for one crucial second.

Then she was stepping off the clock ledge, plummeting downward.

"No!"

The jerk of the line at his back kept him from grabbing her hand and being pulled down after her, and Zoe and Mal's hands yanking at him kept him from slipping off the ledge two seconds later.

"River! River!"

Simon caught his breath, half-heard Zoe saying something, Mal swearing, and then--

Giggles echoing on the air, as his sister sank into the safety cushion far, far below.

* * *

"Ohhh, River, you are gonna get it when Simon gets back down here," Kaylee scolded as she waded through the cushion toward the limp form of the girl. "You just about gave me a heart attack! And Mal is going to be **pissed**! That was just... I can't believe you did that, that was--"

"It was perfectly safe," a matter-of-fact voice informed them from the center of the red silk mass. "I just had to show Simon he didn't need to worry."

"Didn't need ta worry! You coulda been killed! If we hadn't got the mattress up in time--"

"Splat like a water balloon," Jayne said grimly.

"Not from that height." A dark head finally emerged from the center of the cushion, and Oz caught a glimpse of a rose and purple patterned sundress, black combat boots, and a gold sweater over a thin, wiry frame, before another billow of scarlet hid her again as Kaylee fought her way toward the girl. "Many people have survived falls from over sixty feet in height with only broken bones. The clock tower face is forty-six point eight feet tall. Even without the cushion, I would only have broken both of my ankles. Assuming I didn't land on my head."

"Oh yeah, assuming that," Jayne snarked. "'Sides, it ain't like you never been dropped on your head before."

Kaylee fished the girl out, brushed her skirt off with shaking hands, then hugged her hard. "Don't ever do that again, River! Just don't!"

"Kaylee?" For the first time, River's voice was uncertain. "I... Sorry." She laid her head on Kaylee's shoulder, and hugged her back. "You weren't supposed to be scared. You were supposed to know."

"I did know! I knew you were mostly safe! I know you! But I was still scared! What if Simon went too? What if you didn't land right?" A sniffle. "You gotta quit doin' stuff like this, River."

"Oh."

Oz helped Wash pull more of the red silk back, and deflate the edges of the cushion so Kaylee and River could climb out. The whole situation irresistibly - and probably unfairly - reminded him of Dawn when someone had been ignoring her, staging a big scene to make sure you still knew she was around, even though this girl was evidently much more messed up, and the only real resemblance was in the hair. It still inspired the need to shake her and reassure her at the same time. Loosed from Kaylee's hug - but not the grip on her arm - River looked to be about seventeen, maybe eighteen, with a doll-like face that wavered between pretty and plain, and deep, dark eyes that didn't quite focus on her surroundings.

A second later, he had to re-evaluate the not-quite-focusing part of his judgement, when her eyes snapped on him like a targeting system.

"I don't know you," she said conversationally, watching his movements very carefully.

"Oz," he said, nodding in response. Something... something was tickling at his awareness. What was it?

"He helped me put up the cushion for you, 'cause the other ESO guys were out on a call," Kaylee put in, still imprisoning River's wrist in her hand. "He just got into town."

River tilted her head in consideration, her lips set in a thin line, and her eyes went away again. "Oz. But not the wizard of. You've never been to Omaha."

"Nope," he agreed. "I missed it."

"But you know a witch. An almost-wicked witch."

Okay, that was... unexpected. He straightened, studied her harder. Not a scent; not a smell. But something about her was familiar, although Oz was sure they'd never met before.

"And the witch knew my monster," River added, as an afterthought. "But that doesn't matter any more."

"River!"

Oz had to put his speculations about what **that** meant away then, as several people rushed out of the bank looking very, very peeved. The dark-haired man in a tie had to be River's brother, after that bone-crushing hug; the tall, attractive woman with the dangerous way of moving was evidently married to Wash, judging by that hello; and the last man, wearing a Sheriff's badge and a thunderous scowl, was probably Kaylee's good buddy Mal. The Sheriff.

"House-arrest, Doc. And I ain't takin' no for an answer. Public nuisance at the least, prank call on county services if I wanna push it, suicide attempt if I truly wanna be difficult. Take it or leave it, keep your sister under lock and key for two weeks or I'll be calling the County Mental hospital in Pahrump. You got me?"

"Sheriff, that's excessive--"

"Mal, she didn't mean no harm," Kaylee broke in on River's brother. "She's real sorry now, ain't you, River?"

"Yes," the girl said solemnly. "I scared Kaylee. I'm sorry about that. It was unanticipated."

"But not sorry about scaring the rest of us, as well as your brother?" the Sheriff demanded sharply.

"I had a good reason," River insisted. "I was perfectly safe. You had to see that. Now you know. But I'm sorry Kaylee was frightened."

"Oh, we know all right. We know you're off on another one of your mental breaks, taking a little separation from being married to reality," the Sheriff retorted. River rolled her eyes, and the man snorted, turning to Simon. "Two weeks. Lock and key. Ball and chain. Bread and water, that might help. Hell, I'll lo-jack her if I have to, don't think I won't. But if she gets into trouble again in that time--"

"She won't," Simon insisted.

"See that she don't." The Sheriff turned to the crowd and glowered at them; some of them smiled nervously back. Oz didn't blame them. "What the hell are you doin' still hanging around ? Show's over, folks! Next high-dive act will be from Dixon's Ridge, when the pot-head weekend warriors are back in town! 'Til then, get cable, there ain't nothing more to see here!"


	5. Chapter 5

5.

_I Fell Into A Burning Ring Of Fire  
I Went Down, Down, Down  
And The Flames Went Higher  
And It Burns, Burns, Burns  
The Ring Of Fire  
The Ring Of Fire_

None of that rock-thrash-crap was playing in the Swingin' Door B&G. Hell, no. Johnny Cash all the way. No-name posers, stealin' Johnny's best song ever and turnin' it into speedmetal junk. Maybe they oughta hunt them losers down, suck 'em dry, leave their bodies on some L.A. highway to show what happened to song thieves and punk-ass ar-tistes who didn't show respect to the Man in Black. Yeah, that was a plan. For later, when they got back to L.A. Lyle bet his baby would go for that, if he promised her a new leather jacket for helpin'.

"Lyle, man, the new ones are startin' to wake up." Mitch loped over to the bar and leaned over to snag himself another bottle of Jim Beam, hitching a thumb to the bodies laid out on the pool table and beginning to twitch. "The tall one's thinkin' he's got the fangs to take on Yates. Twenty bucks says Yates dusts him if'n he don't shut up soon."

Well, that wouldn't do.

"Damnit, I tole him we need them truckers if we're gonna take on a town in the next day or so, what's he goin' messing with the plan for?" Lyle put down his V-8 & O-neg, and slid off his barstool, irked. Bad enough three of the new vamps they'd made on the way from Beattie had struck out on their own. Now he had this shit to deal with. Ever since Tector got dusted, gettin' good help was a real pain in the vein. Jaysus. You'd think Yates was raised yesterday, 'stead of two years ago. No sense of priorities. It was damn depressin', that was the word. Took the shine right out of the slaughter, having to discipline these pups every hour on the hour.

Some days, if it hadn't been for his sweetie, he'd have chucked the whole damn Master Vampire scenario and taken off for Rio, just gone native like Butch Cassidy. No responsibilities, no plans, no problems. But she didn't like South America, so no go on that.

'Sides, they had a plan, and no would-be jumped-up hired hand was gonna screw this up for Lyle Gorch.

Lyle grabbed Yates's arm on the backswing as he was aiming a pool cue at the heart of the newest bit of cannon fodder, and squished all the bones in his hand together, hard. This made Yates yell, as anyone would expect, and gave Lyle time to whap him over the head with his own hat.

"The hell are you thinkin'? Did I say you could kill any of the new boys?"

"He ain't showin' respect!" Yates snarled in full vamp-face, as the new vamp in front of him smirked, now that he weren't in any danger of dusting.

"An' why the hell should he? You ain't respectable. No, goddamnit, you just shut. Your. Mouth." Lyle twisted Yates arm with each word, until he heard a satisfying 'snap' somewhere down the line. Yates howled, Lyle grinned, and the rest of the old hands just shook their heads at ol' Yates's cussedness. The new hands looked half-scared, half-pleased. Yates always did have a way with people, and no mistake.

"Right then. You hush, and sit yourself down by the bar. And don't go straightenin' out that arm 'til I say so, Yates. I ain't happy with you, boy." Lyle waited until Yates had sulked off into a corner before turning to the six newly risen vampires in front of him, idly twirling the pool cue in one hand.

"Evenin', boys. My name is Lyle Gorch. I'm your new boss. Welcome to your afterlife."

"This isn't Heaven," a shrimpy guy on the end said, more as if he were hopin' it were true than like he was sure about it.

"Well, no, it ain't. Y'all are vampires now. Members of the livin' dead. We killed you last night - along with everyone else in this bar - and now you're workin' for us. And a vamp goin' to Heaven would be kinda -- what's that word? Oh, yeah. Un-preservation-al." Lyle grinned at them big, and some of them laughed at the joke; he sobered up real fast, soon as they did that. Trick was to keep 'em off balance, wonderin' what the hell he was gonna do next.

"So. Y'all are gonna need to start earnin' your keep. We didn't make you part of the gang so's you could slack off. We're lookin' to go into a little town fifty miles up the highway from here, visit the local waterin' holes tonight, maybe find some smart new recruits, and find out who's in charge in that pueblo. If you do what I tell you, we're gonna have a lot of fun, women, fightin' and blood. If you **don't** do what I tell you--" He stabbed out with the pool cue, catching Shrimpy in the chest, fast. The guy's face just had time to look surprised before it crumpled into dust. Too short to be much help, see, now that was who you made an example out of. The short smart ones. Kept everyone else in line.

"You ain't gonna be enjoyin' your afterlife for very dam' long. Comprende?"

Vehement nods all around. Lyle smiled in satisfaction.

"That's fine. Real fine. Now, which one of you boys wants to go drinkin' at the Silverheels out on the highway, and who wants to be goin' to Helen Wheels' in Serenity proper tonight?"

* * *

"Thanks for the burger, man." Oz chewed contentedly on a double-bacon cheeseburger with BBQ sauce, and helped himself to the very tasty onion rings in the table's basket. "I appreciate it. You didn't have to, but I appreciate it."

"Hey, it was the least we could do," Wash said, settling back in his chair and taking a slurp of his milkshake. "Besides, it's tradition. Anyone who survives a River incident without getting physically damaged or permanently traumatized gets a burger. Right, Troy?"

The other ESO officer grinned, nodded and dipped an onion ring in a cup of ranch dressing. Oz admired Troy's economy of language, composed as it entirely seemed to be of head jerks, smiles, and "uh-hunh." Zoe kept nudging him and telling him to speak up, but the hulking, silent paramedic just grinned shyly at his boss's wife and ducked his head in response. Kaylee seemed to be content to watch the guy eat, in between bouts of enthusiasm about the rescue.

"This was even worse than that time when she was missing for a day and a half, and turned up in the bell tower of the First Baptist Church. She couldn't figure out how to get down, 'cause the ladder had broke and nobody realized she was asleep up there. Least that time, she wasn't _wanting_ to jump, she was just cranky about bein' stuck." Kaylee popped another onion ring in her mouth and shook her head.

"Took us the better part of an afternoon to get the fire department ladders up there. And the church had to overhaul its bell tower entry to comply with the fire codes after that," Wash reminisced. "The deacon wasn't real happy with River."

"Not passing any judgments," Oz said slowly, "but what, exactly, is the deal with her?"

"How do you mean?" Zoe asked, in what should have been a mild voice, but which somehow conveyed a warning of 'halt! Dangerous ground!' as easily as the sound of a gun being cocked.

He really wanted to let it go, but the questions the girl had asked him had been unsettling, as well as the general vibe he'd got off her, and Oz felt like he _had_ to ask. "She said something to me about me knowing an almost-wicked witch."

"Mmm?" Zoe raised an eyebrow as she bit into her burger. Wash and Kaylee were exchanging meaningful looks, but Oz couldn't quite decrypt them. Troy was just looking very uncomfortable.

"So. Is she psychic?"

Wash spluttered for a second, Troy blinked, and Kaylee's eyes got very wide. "What'd make you think of that?" she asked, her voice high and overly casual.

"So she is." Interesting.

Zoe dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, her eyes narrowing. "You know, most people don't believe in that kind of stuff."

"Most people don't have Wiccans for ex-girlfriends." Ones who'd almost destroyed the world, according to their last phone conversation. He had to wonder if River had gotten a glimpse of that, and to sincerely hope that she'd just seen Willow turning Xander into a demon-magnet or accidentally setting fire to her bed. Near-apocalypses couldn't be fun viewing.

"Ohh, boy," Kaylee muttered, then steeled herself. "Here's the thing, Oz. River isn't-- she isn't what you'd call reliable, and most of the time, you shouldn't pay attention to what she says, 'cause it'll only upset you. She just has to say things, and most often, she don't even know what she means, you know? So it isn't like she's a phone psychic or a channeler or --"

"I'm not going to bug her about it," Oz said calmly, breaking into the flow of Kaylee's babble with the ease of long (albeit dis-used) practice with Willow. "I just wanted to know if I should take her seriously about the other thing she said."

"And what would that be?" Wash asked, sounding wary.

"She said my witch knew her monster. And that it didn't matter any more."

Zoe sat up straight, looking disturbed. "_Did_ she now."

"Yup." He met Zoe's gaze, and tilted his head inquiringly. "Any idea what that meant?"

Wash looked troubled, fiddling with his straw. "It could mean a lot of things, babe."

"It could," Zoe agreed. Kaylee was biting her lip, obviously upset, and Troy was looking back and forth, from Wash to Zoe to Kaylee, like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how. "But I'm thinking it means what we think it means."

She drew a slow breath, then met Oz's eyes, and apparently made a decision to trust him enough to explain as she spoke, her voice grim. "She wasn't always like this, you see. River, I mean." Oz nodded slowly, and Zoe went on. "According to Simon, River was perfectly normal when they were growing up. A genius, maybe. Very bright, interested in everything, science, art, music; a dancer." Zoe's lips quirked. "Well, she's still that, I guess."

"Something bad happened to her. Something made her different, off-center, like she is now," Kaylee blurted out, her expression stormy. "She was on a school trip a few years ago, and she got separated from the group. She was missing for three whole days, nobody knew where she was." Kaylee's voice grew strained, and she looked away, her shoulders hunching.

"And when they found her, she was… changed," Zoe finished. She sighed. "She's actually much better than she used to be. When Simon first moved here with her, she'd talk in nonsense nearly all the time, attack people when she was scared, then go wandering off down the middle of the highway, dodging traffic for fun. This is the first time this summer that she's acted up."

"Thing is, nobody knows why she's like this," Wash said seriously. "She couldn't tell anyone what happened to her. And there wasn't any significant physical damage, but it's not like she's got any kind of easily diagnosed, treatable mental illness, either. There were no symptoms before she disappeared; so they kind of think it was trauma that did it." Wash's good-humored face was shadowed with gloomy worry at the idea.

"She used to scream a lot, first month or two." Troy looked deeply disturbed. Oz could see the reluctance to speak on his face, and realized it had to be pretty memorable for the taciturn Viking to be mentioning it. "About people in her head. Hurting her."

"Sounds pretty ugly."

"It was that," Zoe said quietly.

Wash put his glass down, looking weary. "So you see, if she says your friend knew her monster, we have to wonder."

"I could check with Willow. She might know who or what River's talking about, if I tell her what happened. Could be that if she knows anything, it would help her brother get treatment for River." Although Willow had helped Buffy with so many monsters over the last seven years, she might not be able to be any help at all. Recognizing one monster out of thousands was a lot to hope for; and it might be that the truth was too weird to share with River's brother. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask.

"That would be so cool!" Kaylee bounced in her seat, then looked confused when Zoe shot her a glare. "Wouldn't it?"

"It would be kind of your friend, but it's not necessary," Zoe said in a quelling voice, looking away from the mechanic. "We wouldn't want to put you to any trouble."

"No trouble," Oz said calmly. "Just tell me when and where River got hurt, and I'll pass it along to Will. Maybe she can figure it out."

"No." Zoe shot quick warning glances at her husband, Kaylee, and Troy that left all three squirming, then turned back to Oz with a sweet and gentle smile that had way too many teeth on it for a non-werewolf. "Seriously. If River says it doesn't matter now, I don't think we should upset her any more. There's no good reason to be stirring up the past."

_Hmmmmmmm._ Zoe didn't want Oz having specific information about River's past. _Secrets and weird things here. Business as usual._ He shrugged, unwilling to push the point when Zoe was so committed to concealing-- or protecting-- whatever it was she didn't want him finding out. But he had to wonder what could be bad enough to keep Zoe from letting him ask. "Your call. Offer's still open."

"We'll keep it in mind." Zoe nodded firmly to him, then pushed the onion rings closer to his side of the table. "Try the barbeque rings, they're really good."


	6. Chapter 6

6.

River was stuffing her face. As usual. Where did she _put_ it all? Simon knew that if he asked, she'd probably tell him she had a portable black hole in her pocket. Then offer to get him one.

"May I have another helping of rice, please?"

Inara's butler-chef-driver-whatever-he-felt-like-being-today, Matteo Velasquez, smiled benevolently at River and said, "Of course, perdita. With yellow peppers?"

"Definitely. Thank you, Matteo."

Miss Manners. As if she hadn't scared the life out of him less than seven hours ago. Simon hadn't been sure keeping this dinner engagement was a good idea, but River seemed determined to make up for her earlier outrageousness by being a perfect angel. Certainly Reverend Book and Matteo were taken in.

Well, maybe not. They might have just been enjoying watching her drive him crazier. Inara, of course, knew what River was up to, but she wasn't about to interfere. Simon suspected their hostess was too amused by his sister's primness, and his suspicion of it, to even consider giving him any help.

"River, don't you think you've had enough, maybe?" he asked, almost under his breath.

Which was - unfortunately - not quiet enough to escape Matteo's attention. Thirty years of riding herd on ranch hands and Diego Serra's employees had given him ears like finely-tuned seismosmeters. "Let her eat! That's what it's here for, isn't it? And anyway, she's a bird! Too thin, trying to fly away--"

"She's not too thin, she's still growing. I just thought she ought to save room for dessert--"

"You're a doctor and you can't see she needs to eat more, because you don't eat enough either!" Matteo glared at him, and spooned another chimichanga onto his plate. "Always working, never getting a decent meal, skinny as a rail--"

Inara was hiding her mouth behind her napkin, and Reverend Book's eyes were glinting in amusement. He really should have known better than to argue with Matteo over a food issue.

"It's a wonder you don't both waste away! Ahh! Eat more of the corn, and leave your sister to finish her meal in piece!" Matteo ordered him, then stomped out to replenish the salad bowl.

It was almost like a family dinner, except their Grandfather Tam couldn't cook and their Grandfather Wells was an avowed atheist. Otherwise, the spoiling of River and haranguing of Simon was awfully familiar. Dinner at Inara's hacienda was one of the few regular things about life in Serenity that he and River could count on. Good food; French or Mexican or Thai, whatever Matteo was experimenting with that week. Good conversation, thanks to Inara and whoever she'd invited; the Reverend being a common guest, but various other townspeople who didn't mind River sometimes joining them as well. And the so-familiar trappings of wealth and comfort, Southwestern in flavor, instead of New England based; all were reminders of home. And, if Simon were going to admit it, extremely welcome ones. It was nice, having a bit of normality to cling to.

Except, of course, their parents had abandoned River once she became... different, and Inara had been nothing but helpful and kind, once Simon and Mal had explained the situation to her. Which wasn't the kind of comparison he usually felt comfortable making, but after a day like today, it was inescapable.

He still wondered who they'd been sometimes, the men who'd wanted his parents to give them custody of River. With their English accents and officious demeanors, and not one convincing bit of evidence that they could help her. It had been enough for their parents that someone wanted to take their brain-damaged daughter off their hands. One thing had been clear to Simon, newly released from his residency, barely back from the Bar exam: they didn't know a damn thing about treating mental illness. And leaving River in their hands would have been the worst kind of irresponsible abuse possible.

But after today - when he'd thought she was finally getting better - when she hadn't had a serious incident since this summer started, enough to make him think, almost, of contacting Dad and Mom again, now... he wondered if he'd done the right thing after all. He'd done better than they would have, yes. But was his best really so much better?

"So, I hope you're both... recovered, from today's excitement," Reverend Book said tentatively, taking a sip from his water glass, his eyes darting from Simon to River and back.

Before Simon could say anything, River chirped, "I'm fine. But Simon's still shaken up."

Inara stifled a giggle at this, and Simon glared at his sister. "So nice of you to notice."

"After he got down from the tower, we left so fast I don't think he even said thank-you to everyone for helping." River shook her head sadly, popping a jalapeno in her mouth without flinching.

"I did so thank everyone!"

"You could have been more grateful."

"**I** could have been more grateful?" Simon accused her, feeling his face heat up at Book and Inara's carefully not-smiling expressions. She was such a brat. An unbelievable brat. "You're the one that nearly had Kaylee in tears!"

"And you didn't even stop to comfort her." River smiled her thanks at Matteo as he cleared her plate, then put down a sopapilla dripping in honey for her to dig into.

"I.. _what_?" Simon choked. Comfort Kaylee? Kaylee the sympathetic, the perpetually cheerful, the bright? Needing comfort from him? Not that the idea didn't have appeal, but...

River sighed, shrugged her shoulders hopelessly as Simon spluttered. "Honestly. I give you a perfect opportunity like that..."

"Do NOT tell me you did that to get me a date."

"I didn't," River said calmly. "But it's not a bad idea."

How did this get to be about him? How? _How?_ "You... she..."

"You've liked Kaylee ever since New Year's, with the kiss at midnight, but you've been too busy and lame to follow up on it."

Of all the outrageous, unbelievable, appalling-- "I have not! And besides, Kaylee's not-- she's already got boyfriends, she isn't interested in me--" There had to be a way to end this conversation, there just had to. Especially since River was being so on-target on a subject he'd carefully kept to himself. Or so he'd thought.

"I'm about to give up, let her know where you sleep, and tell her to have at you." River forked another mouthful of sopapilla into her mouth, swallowed, then said, "By the way, the lock on your bedroom window is broken."

Okay, that was... a mental image he didn't need at a dinner table. Simon stared at River in gob-smacked silence, broken only by giggles from Inara and a suspicious-sounding cough from Book.

"Ahem. So. Who was that young man Kaylee was talking to when she was helping you out of the crash-cushion?"

Wait. Kaylee was talking to some new guy? And he'd missed it?

"Oh, you saw him?"

"Yes. He didn't look familiar, but they seemed friendly." Reverend Book's voice was mild, and as the minister was not looking at him, Simon couldn't be sure whether that remark was directed at him or not. Okay, that glance? The irony? Definitely directed at him.

"That was Oz. He's a bass guitarist. They're friends. He's staying in town for a while."

"Really," Simon said, because there didn't seem to be anything else to say. "Friends. Hunh." Because who Kaylee wanted to date was her own business, his match-making sister to the contrary. Right. Never mind how far away his mind had gone at the open-window scenario.

River rolled her eyes, not even deigning to look at him. "Not those kind of friends. Just friend-friends. He has an appointment in Istanbul in twenty years, and he's not going to get involved with Kaylee because of it. She might mess it up."

Inara took a sip of wine, her mouth curving in amusement. "I see. He told you about this?"

River licked honey and sugar off her mouth, carefully took another bite, and spoke through the dessert. "He and his witch have an understanding. They'll be old enough for each other in twenty years, when he's walked through the Antarctic naked and she's been to Atlantis. But that's not for a while yet. So he's traveling the Earth. And she's traveling outside of it."

Book sat back, allowing Matteo to put his dessert down in front of him, looking highly entertained in the quietest way possible. "Chatty young man."

River shook her head. "He didn't tell say any of this to Kaylee. I just know. May I please be excused to go dance?"

"Yes, you may." Inara smiled conspiratorially. "I have some new CD's on top of the stereo, if you want to look through them."

"Thank you, Inara. I appreciate you letting me use your ballroom," River said seriously, then bounced up, planting a kiss on Matteo's cheek as she went by. "Thank you for dinner, Matteo, it was wonderful. And it was nice talking to you, Reverend!" she called over her shoulder, already heading for the ballroom, completely oblivious to anything else. No thanks or appreciation for Simon, he noted sardonically. Then again, she wasn't happy about being left here this evening.

"Inara, I appreciate your agreeing to let her stay here while I'm at the office. I was afraid she was going to be horrible about it, but I guess she's saving her bad mood just for me. But after today, I really don't feel comfortable leaving her alone just yet."

Inara waved his thanks away and shook her head. "It was no trouble. But what is Mal up to? I can't imagine anything that would take you into the morgue tonight."

"Who knows... The only person I have a harder time understanding than Malcolm Reynolds is my sister. **Atlantis**," he muttered under his breath. "That's a new one. Where does she get this stuff?"

Inara lips curved into a Mona Lisa smile. "Oh, really, Simon. I don't think that's all that hard to figure out."

"You don't?"

"It's obvious. She has a crush."

Reverend Book and Matteo immediately directed nearly identical "you just had to say it" and "well, you're going to hell for **that**" looks at Inara that Simon barely registered, having been rendered speechless and shocky for the second time at the table that night. A crush? River?

Inara seemed even more amused at their reactions, and began to calmly eat her own dessert. "I think it's sweet."

"Sweet?" It was not sweet. Nothing connected to River was sweet, but this was disastrous. "It's **wrong**! Bad! And may I repeat, wrong! No! She's too young, she can't possibly--"

"She's seventeen," Inara pointed out. "I'd say it was overdue, actually--"

"She is the right age for it," Book said, sounding faintly regretful, and Matteo shook his head in rueful agreement. "A stranger in town, a musician... well, I suppose it's only to be expected--"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. And did I mention, no? No! My sister is very fragile--"

River went cartwheeling past the doorway to the ballroom, came to her feet, then jete'd off into the distance, looking fully capable of mayhem, but completely unable to handle anything to do with dating, crushes, heartbreak, or... anything else, for that matter.

"--and despite all evidence that might suggest otherwise, she can't-- it wouldn't be good for her, it would be _bad_. BAD." Simon directed pleading looks around the room, and got sympathy but no agreement in return. "Do you even hear what I'm saying? Am I speaking English, am I making any sense at all?"

Book shrugged philosophically. "About as much as any brother about his younger sister's romantic life."

"Simon, a crush is harmless, it's just a young girl's way of trying out her feelings," Inara said soothingly. "It doesn't mean anything, and it doesn't have to. I'd take it as encouraging sign, actually. She's finally starting to catch up to the girls her own age in some ways. It's a good thing."

Matteo frowned, looking stern. "Of course, if the young man returned her interest, you would have to make certain he was careful of her feelings, and understood that she was different than other people--"

"Oh, god, no. No! This isn't happening. I do not want to hear about this--" See, if he'd left her at home, this would have been their mother's problem. Forget whether River was equipped to cope, he definitely wasn't. His own love life sucked, as River knew all too well. How was he supposed to deal with hers?

Inara frowned at the clock. "Aren't you late for your meeting at the morgue, Simon?"

It suddenly struck him that Inara was a woman. A widow no less, and whatever she'd been or done before that, and whatever she and Malcolm Reynolds might be up to, she knew about feelings and romance and probably bass guitarists. Simon seized on that thought like a drowning man. "Could you talk to River? Please? I mean, and explain to her--"

Inara blinked once, very slowly, and smiled. "Explain what?"

He closed his eyes in defeat, and got up from the table. "Never mind. Just... No. I'll... oh, forget it. Thank you for dinner, Inara. Nice to see you again, Reverend. Delicious meal, Matteo. And the mental discord was truly appreciated on top of dessert."

Inara was silently laughing at him, but being too polite to show it. "You're welcome, Simon."

"River! I'm leaving!" he called, once he was out in the hallway.

"Bye, Simon! Remember to duck!"

He stopped in the middle of the hallway, and let his head fall onto his chest. _Remember to duck? _Atlantis? Leaving the window open? And Inara and Book and Matteo thought that her having a crush was **cute**?

Maybe River wasn't the only crazy one in this town. It would certainly explain a lot.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

"So. Remind me. Why are we here, again? Oh, that's right, you never told me." Wash shivered in the overly air-conditioned chill of the morgue, feeling a certain kinship with a vegetable in a crisper as he sat perched on the desk, and tried not to stare at the dead body concealed under the sheet. God knows he'd seen enough corpses, but never in a social setting, like a fourth in some bizarre game of bridge.

Mal didn't look up from his study of the sheet-draped corpse of Terrence McDonald, and Jayne, leaning back in the morgue's one chair, didn't acknowledge Wash's sally either. Zoe patted his knee and tried to smile. "Because we want you here, honey."

"Want me here for what? A wake? Because I think we're short on liquor if that's the case. And I'm getting the feeling that everyone knows why we're here except me."

Jayne looked up from his perusal of _Gun Monthly_ and said, "I don't know why we're here."

"Right. Good point. So, everyone else with a brain knows why we're here."

"Hey!"

"Jayne, settle down," Mal said, tapping a finger on his gunbelt. He didn't lift his eyes from the dead body on the autopsy table. "Wash, lighten up. It'll all come clear in a minute."

Wash sighed in irritation, then returned to badgering his wife. Who knew, if he got on her nerves enough, maybe she'd suggest they take a break in the 'chopper. It wasn't like it'd be the first time. "Zoe, honey, I gotta say: this is much more fun than a couples' mini-golf night, like I wanted to do. Forget everything I ever said a romantic evening complete with a trip to the video store, because waiting for Terrence to start breathing again is ever so much more exciting."

Zoe tightened her hand on his, her eyes fixed on Terrence just like Mal's were. "Husband, did I ever tell you about Khalid Al-Hassan?"

Non sequitor territory with Zoe was either terrifying or mystifying, and sometimes both. This time, though, it was mostly just annoying. "Not that I recall. Why, was he your first husband? Or is there some other reason you're bringing him up?"

"Mal and I met him when we were stationed in Baghdad." Zoe's fingers tightened around him, the knuckles standing out, her hand almost bruising-strong around his.

Baghdad. Zoe never talked about Baghdad, or her time in the Gulf. She'd talk about how she met Mal, about the other people in their unit, she'd talk about training and guns. She never mentioned being afraid, or tired, or scared; she never mentioned the discharge that had turned her and Mal loose and made the Sheriff so bitter.

Right. So. This was important to her, if she was bringing it up now. Time to be serious. Or as serious as you could be with a dead body as a centerpiece and no informative conversational flow happening.

"He shouldn't be here," Mal said mechanically, his vehement protests of an hour ago now faded into rote.

Zoe didn't meet his eyes. "Wash has a right to know, sir. Right or wrong, we'll have proof in a minute."

"And I appreciate it, hon. I really do appreciate it. I just wish I knew what I was appreciating your telling me. And why you're bringing up this Khalid guy now, of all times," Wash added.

His wife shrugged, and it would've been nonchalant except for that awful tension. "He saved our lives. Mal's and mine. In a morgue kinda like this one."

"It was hotter. No air conditioning. Flies. Baghdad morgue was purely nasty." Mal's expression didn't change one bit, or his stare move from the silent Terrence. Wash was beginning to be seriously unnerved by that.

Gently, he asked, "Was this before or after you two took the discharge?"

"Before," they answered in stereo. Mal's hand twitched, and Zoe went on, "Just before. It's kinda what... kicked that whole mess off."

"I thought that was getting drunk and disorderly and offending the locals. You said you took the discharge to keep the Army in the good graces of the civilian authorities," Wash said.

"It was part of it." Zoe was so stiff, so still. Not uncomfortable-conversation stiff. Surveillance-stiff, waiting-for-the-first-punch stiff.

"The other part was what Khalid had to do to save our asses, and the fact that we ended up short one dead body after that," Mal said. He was still watching the corpse like a hawk, and Wash traded a look with Jayne, alarmed on his part, grossed-out on the deputy's end.

"Are you thinking somebody's gonna come in and steal him?" Jayne asked, outraged. "Because that's just wrong."

"Khalid was a good guy. Smart. He covered for us, so we covered for him," Mal said, not answering Jayne's question. "But there was no way the US Army was gonna let us stay in Baghdad after that."

Once you worked your way through the circumlocution, it kind of made sense. They were standing guard. "Okay, and the essence of this runaround is: this body is in danger?"

"This body is the danger," Zoe said quietly.

"Hunh?" Jayne said as intelligently as only he could.

Wash blinked. "Not to agree with the brain trust, but I gotta second that--"

"What time is it?" Mal asked suddenly, not even bothering to glance at his watch.

"Three more minutes, sir," Zoe answered.

"Okay, that? That's really annoying, that not answering questions. You know that, right?"

Mal didn't even twitch at Wash's accusation. "Last chance to get your husband outta here, Zoe."

"He can take care of himself, sir. And I'm not keeping secrets from him any more."

Hello, weirdness of ex-comrade-in-arms. "I can hear you from this far across the room, you know, because the room is_ tiny_. So it's not actually difficult to tell me why I should leave my wife in some kind of danger that's creeping me out!"

"Okay, then. Wash. Last chance not to have nightmares later tonight." There were days he was sure Mal had seen too many Eastwood movies.

"Pass."

"Hell, I'm leavin'. You all are gettin' too weird for me."

"Did I say you could leave?" Mal demanded of Jayne. "Sit your butt back down. And keep that gun handy, just like I said. Head shots only."

Wash looked from Zoe, to Mal, then back. "Zoe? Sweetums?"

"Yes, husband?"

"Are we waiting for the dead to rise?"

"Actually, yes," Zoe said, her voice way too calm.

"Uh-hunh." He nodded thoughtfully, then looked back at Mal. "Sheriff? I'm going to have to tell the doc that you're dragging my wife into your paranoid delusions. Nothing personal."

"No problem." Mal didn't even flick an eyelash. "You can tell him when he shows up-- damnit. He's late."

"You told him a quarter 'til--" Zoe sounded worried.

"Well, I miscalculated, didn't I?"

Wash opened his mouth to ask "Miscalculated what?" then shut it in irritation as Terrence (or whoever it was, his mind noted) slowly began to sit up beneath his sheet. "Oh, right, guys, very funny. Like I'm going to run away now? Zoe, what did I do to deserve this? Lately?"

"You have been a kind, brave and generous man since the day I met you, and you deserve to know the truth. I just wish the truth wasn't true," Zoe said, her voice tightening as she slowly got to her feet, and cocked her own pistol.

"Zoe, baby, stop it. This isn't funny--"

In one harsh, jerky motion, Terrence suddenly whipped off the sheet, and hopped off the autopsy table. For half an instant, Wash was gonna laugh, because the guy was naked, and snarling. And it was such a ridiculous cliché. Then Terrence leaped at Mal, knocked his gun upward, and started grappling with him, and nothing was funny at all.

"Shit!" Jayne cocked his gun and aimed it at Terrence, yelling, "Back away or I'll blow your head off!"

"Shoot him!" Mal yelled, keeping the guy at arm's length-- barely-- with a stiff-armed pose that had to be killing his muscles by the look of it.

"Shoot him!" Wash yelped, pulling Zoe back toward the other autopsy table, trying to get on the other side of the table and the room from this-- thing. It wasn't Terrence, that was for damn sure. The face was warped, the teeth were fangs, the eyes were bloodshot, and the growling was-- Jesus, he sounded like that rabid Doberman they'd had to put down last year, out of control and crazy.

Zoe wasn't waiting for Mal or Jayne, just for the first clear shot she got, and then she pulled the trigger, hitting the formerly dead body four times point blank in the torso, sending him staggering back into the wall, letting go of the shaky Mal in the process. Wash breathed a sigh of relief, proud of her, so proud, it was all over--

"Ow," Terrence grumbled, his face melting and re-forming into the good-natured features that Wash had seen countless times in the County Commissioner's meetings. "Damn, Zoe, that really stings--" He snarled again and suddenly leaped for Jayne, grabbing for his gun.

Mal shot him in the back of the leg, sending Terrence sprawling sideways and away from a gaping Jayne, whose eyes were showing white and wild, rolling like a horse's. Hissing, Terrence lifted his head from the floor, and his face did that thing again: muscles and fangs and bumps pushing forward from somewhere inside his skull, the expression shifting to one of raw hunger and rage. Wash swore he was going to be sick the second he could breathe again.

Terrence swiped at Jayne's legs, still within reach because the deputy was staring at him gobsmacked and hadn't moved away, and Cobb toppled over like a tree. Terrence would have pounced on him like a rabid terrier if Mal hadn't shot him three times in the torso, driving him off. _Gonna be deaf from all the gunfire_, Wash thought crazily. _No hearing again until tomorrow, if we live... God, what is happening?_

"Terrence, stay still and take it like a man," Mal said through white lips. He pulled something out of the back of his waistband, and Wash was shocked and incredulous to see him holding a sharpened piece of wood. "You know it's gotta be like this."

"Shoulda killed me while I was out, Sheriff," Terrence said genially, lumbering to his feet. The combination of that sane, rational voice, and the animalistic face made Wash's head spin. Well, except for the lisp through those teeth. "And I don't have to take anything I don't want to. I'll take Zoe first, maybe. Then hubby. Save the big guy for dessert-- and you, you're gonna be entertainment--"

"What?!" Wash spluttered, trying to shield Zoe with his body again, but she kept moving away, training her gun on the naked snarling dead guy. "Terrence, this isn't you, what the hell happened to you, how can you be--"

"I'm not the man you knew any more, Wash m'boy. I suspect our Sheriff could explain it better than me." Terrence shook his head mournfully at Mal. "If you'd done your job, Reynolds, this never would've happened to me." Mal faltered for one second, the stake in his hand drooping down, his face holding horrible sorrow. Terrence kicked out, pushing an instruments tray out towards them as he leaped for the swinging doors.

Only to get smacked in the face as it opened inward.

"What's going on?" Simon stood in the doorway, amazed and delighted when he caught sight of who he'd accidentally hit. "Terrence? How--"

Terrence sprang at him, his face full of rage, and Simon went white, flattening himself backward against the swinging door, hands fumbling for purchase as he tried to back away--

Three shots, one on top of another on top of another, all blurring together. Terrence fell to his knees. And Mal rushed forward and shoved the stake through his heart on the downswing, sweet as the release of a bowling ball down a lane. A high-pitched scream filled the air, then a puff as the body exploded into fragments, a layer of ash and dust drifting down to cover the floor. Jayne's hand was shaking as he holstered his gun and slumped against the wall. Mal put his gun back in his holster, clicked the safety, and collapsed into the chair, covering his face with his hands.

Zoe carefully gave her gun to Wash. "My hand's shaking too hard to hold this, husband," she said, her voice strained.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he said automatically, taking the gun, engaging the safety and putting it down. "You did real good." He folded her in his arms and tried to re-start his heart, to breathe. He was afraid to close his eyes, afraid he'd open them back up to find her gone, to find the nightmare still happening. So he just clutched her to him, his life preserver, his Zoe.

"What. Wha- what... The hell. Just happened here?" Simon asked plaintively.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

Oz could have driven to Helen Wheels', or taken the more direct route through town. But the moon was up even if it was only half full, there were a lot of weird things happening around Serenity, and the graveyard was only one block over from the boarding house. Habit and awareness made him tuck a few stakes in his jacket with a feeling of resignation, hoping they wouldn't be necessary. A werewolf might be safer from a vampire than the general population, but that wasn't a guarantee. Keeping his eyes open, he walked out into the dark, all senses on high alert as he circled around the graveyard.

"Serenity Acres" read the wrought-iron sign above the entrance. He paused at the half-open gates, and closed his eyes, reaching out with all of his senses, and found... familiarity. Lilacs. Death. And something he couldn't put a name to, something half-remembered that had the hairs on the back of his neck rising in a silent howl.

_Do I want to know?_ He wondered. Then answered himself: _Doesn't matter. Gotta know. Ignorance is only bliss when applied to hallucinogenic consequences.  
_  
He squeezed himself through the gap in the gates, and carefully trod his way uphill along a white gravel path shining hot-bright in the moonlight, winding around the gravestones. He caught movement out of the corner of his eyes, here and there: a rabbit hopping away as he approached, the wind moving the branches of a small tree planted over a grave, the tall grass waving around the untended edges, the surf of night rolling in. Small nocturnal sounds all combined in an undertone of reassurance: _we're not worried, we're chirping and breathing and hopping; we're getting out of the predator's way, but there's nothing else to worry about._ Most of his senses were trying to tell him there was nothing extraordinary, nothing exceptional happening in the graveyard tonight. Except for the memory of that scent, now concealed under graveyard roses and pinyon pine.

So it was her stillness, her absolute lack of movement or sound, that led Oz to her.

Crouched over a grave, balanced forward on her toes, her pale skirt was spread out in a circle around her. River's hair fell across her face, concealing her expression. But her body spoke of intense concentration on the funeral mound in front of her. She was clenching something in her fingers, too tightly to see what it was aside from a metallic glint.

"Hey."

She peered at him through her hair, considered his greeting, then returned it, warily. "Hey."

Oz just let that lie there, letting her get used to him, and tried to figure out what she was doing. He read the gravestone, and tensed.

**JULIANA FELICIA MARTINGAY WARREN  
1937-2003  
BELOVED WIFE AND MOM**

The grave was freshly dug, covered with soft earth and a brand-new bouquet of small white roses.

Damn, damn, damn. "You know, there's a bar down the road, we should--"

"Quiet." River was twirling her shiny toy now, a metallic shine moving along her fingers, her face completely absorbed in watching the surface of the grave.

"River." He had to get her out of here. If he was right, she was about to be a vampire's first meal. "We can't stay here. It isn't safe. We gotta go."

"I know. But not yet."

"Now." He stepped over the grave to pull her to her feet--

--and a hand burst through the soil with a puff of air, and a low, trembling snarl.

"Now!"

River shook her head. "You go. I'm staying."

Oz yanked on her arm, trying to drag her to her feet, but instead of getting her up, he was pulled down, nearly falling on his face next to her.

"Watch." River was fumbling for something beneath her skirt. "This is the good part."

"The good--" Another hand burst through the earth, and a old woman, game-faced in pink lace, pulled her head and shoulders free of the grave. She turned to face them, reaching, snarling, her eyes glowing gold--

And River pressed down on the nozzle of the hairspray can she held in her hand, and finally opened the silver lighter she'd been playing with in her left. A _whooomp!_ of flame shot from the can, igniting the old woman's face and shoulders like a marshmallow over an open campfire, and she shrieked, high and inhuman and very quickly cut off. The flames raced around her body, much faster than fire ever did on anything else, and ate her so fast that by the time Oz had regained his balance and was sitting up, she was already ashy bits of dust blowing away.

Okay, that was... unexpected. Just as the sense of recognition was, now, of what about River was so different it set off his werewolf senses.

"Nice trick." He took a long breath, coughed out the last trace of smoke, then another. "Where'd you learn it?"

"Jayne. He thought it would scare me. He didn't understand me very well when I first came to live here." River was playing with the lighter again, studying him meditatively. "I stole this from him after he hid the flamethrower from me."

Oz nodded, deadpan. "Seems fair."

"You're not human," River observed, tilting her head to the side. "I wasn't sure before, but it's very obvious now. You... feel different."

Well. That put it out in the open. "And you're a Slayer."

She blinked, then looked intrigued. "Is that what I am?"

* * *

"Terrence... was... a... vampire." Simon was still staring at the thin layer of ash that Jayne was sweeping up from the floor, trying to get the pieces to fit into some other pattern. The bite marks. The blood loss. The overall _strangeness_ of Terrence's death, culminating in the explosion of dust that had destroyed all traces of the body only minutes before. Every single thing he knew about medical science made a joke in under three minutes, as well as everything he thought he knew about the world.

Vampires. Well, there went his plans for writing up Terrence's case in the _New England Journal of Medicine._

"How is this even-- it goes completely against common sense! It's not possible! And Terrence, of all people, how could he do this, he was nice guy--" Wash wasn't handling this any better than Simon was, but at least he'd had a few minutes to get used to the idea, and seemed to be concentrating on remaining pissed off at the universe for pulling this trick on him. Simon was still trying to fight a desperate need to deny the evidence being swept into a dustpan. Jayne just had a shell-shocked look on his face, barely able to process what was going on; otherwise, Simon knew he would've told the Sheriff to sweep up the floor his own damn self.

"Wasn't Terrence's fault. He got bit, he got forced to drink, end of story. That," Mal pointed at the pitiful remains Jayne was finishing sweeping up, "was not Terrence. That was the blood-sucking fiend that took over his body when he died. Terrence died yesterday, just like we saw. That was just the jackal eatin' at his bones."

"Sure looked like Terrence to me! And how the hell did you know how to stop him?" Wash demanded fiercely, and loudly. All of them were half-shouting, still working against the ringing in their ears from so much gunfire in an enclosed place. "And why weren't you going to tell me, but you were going to tell Jayne and Simon?"

Zoe put her arms around Wash as Mal took the dustpan away from Jayne and poured its contents into a manila envelope. "The Sheriff thought you wouldn't have to know, but Jayne and Simon might stumble across this if they weren't prepared. I told him you were just as much at risk if there was a night pick-up. He didn't want to tell anyone we didn't have to, but I talked him into it." She turned him and held his face in her hands. "I couldn't let you stay ignorant, Wash. It was too important."

Wash was starting to calm down, shaking. "This happened to you before? In Baghdad?" At her stilted nod, he pulled her close. "Aw, hon. God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Simon watched all this, still detached from reality. "Vampires. In Baghdad?"

Zoe laughed, edgily, as she burrowed into her husband's embrace again, teetering on that border of hysteria and amusement now that the danger was past. "I know what you mean. The last time, we had to be very drunk while Khalid explained it all to us, or I think we would've run screaming into the Gulf."

"I'd sure as hell like to be drunk now," Jayne muttered, washing his face with one palm.

Mal gave him an impatient look, then sighed as he sealed up the envelope he was holding. "C'mon back to my office. I've got some scotch there. The rest of this explanation won't take too much time."

"Oh, that's good," Simon said absently. "Because I don't think I'd understand a long explanation just now. I think my brain is stuck." He paused. "Vampires. Are. Real."

* * *

"...so Willow did the spell, and all the other girls who could be Slayers, became Slayers. Just like that." Oz glanced at River sideways. "Just like you."

She nodded, her forehead wrinkling up in thought. They were perched on top of a massive stone sarcophagus at the crest of the graveyard, looking downhill toward the rest of town. The shadow of the Sierra Nevada cut a black shape studded with sparkling lights up one ridge, and the desert was blowing the scent of cactus across the plain, as well as the scent of that weirdness that had brought him here, the magic that had created those monsters out in the dry heat and sand. River had her knees tucked under her chin, her eyes watching him very closely, enough to make some people flinch. Oz figured she was entitled to a little staring; having someone explain the dreams you were having, the strength you'd just developed, and the new instincts to kill monsters had to be pretty overwhelming. She had a lot to process, and probably needed time to figure out the implications.

She frowned. "My brother's going to freak."

Some implications were probably more obvious than others, though.

"He's really, really going to hate this." River chewed on her upper lip, looking grim. "Do I have to tell him?"

"Up to you." Oz shrugged lightly. "Some do, some don't. Your call."

River rested her chin on her knees, hugging her arms around her legs. "Will I have to leave Serenity to learn how to kill monsters? Can't I just stay here?"

Oz had been considering that angle since he'd figured out what she was. Taking into account her differences, the problems she had, he wasn't sure it would be a good idea; and it was info Giles and the others definitely needed, to see if they had suggestions. "Dunno. Most girls, they go to the new school for at least a couple weeks, get their feet wet, get some training. But you've been coping pretty well without it. And some move 'cause there's a lot of places that need Slayers, so..."

"I don't want to leave. You can't make me leave. This is home, I belong here, the space is bent just right around me--"

"Chill." He smiled at her gently. "This is one of those places that needs a Slayer."

"Oh." She calmed down a little, and stopped chewing her lip, her body relaxing a little. "That's why you're here. To find the source of the Nile."

"Yeah. The place where the craziness is coming from."

"It's up in the hills," River said. "It moves around. Not too far, but always just a little different than the day before. I tried to get Kaylee to take me up there to track it - I told her I was looking for different flowers - but she stopped when Simon asked her to." She sighed. "He never lets me have any fun."

"Hence, the skydiving." Oz chuckled under his breath, and River smiled in satisfaction.

"Hence. Yes, hence." She sobered, looked thoughtful, then repeated the word. "Slayer. Vampire slayer. A slayer of vampires. River, the Slayer." She frowned. "That doesn't have a good ring to it. Maybe I should be something else."

"Like?"

"Something... more euphonious. You know that's the most important thing about being a hero. Having a cool nickname." She paused. "I know. River the Reaver. Yes. Much better."

Oz checked her expression, and felt safe to let a wolfy grin out when she broke into giggles.

* * *

Two shots of scotch and twenty minutes later, Simon had moved into the anger portion of the evening.

"You set me up-- set us up -- without even giving us a warning of what to expect--"

"And if I'd been wrong, you never would've believed me the next time," Mal stated adamantly. "This is a see-it-believe-it deal, nothin' less. Tell me you would've thought I was anything but needing medication, if Zoe and me had come to you with this story before you saw it was true."

"I--" Simon put his face in his hands, rubbing at his eye-sockets before he finally grimaced, and met Mal's eyes. "Would have thought you were playing a joke on me. Probably. Then I would have retaliated and given orders to medicate you as payback."

"Can I be medicated?" Wash asked, turning his shot-glass around and around. "I don't think there's enough scotch in the world to make this news go down easy."

"Maybe not, but it's a fact." Mal tipped his chair back, looking wearier than Simon had seen anyone look who hadn't lost a close family member. Then he remember Terrance dissolving away, his bitter accusations against Mal, the danger of more out in the night, and thought that the Sheriff had some cause. "We've got vampires in Nye County. The NBI has no idea that's what it is, but the monsters are here, and they're not that far from Serenity proper. We gotta be on the lookout, hope to kill 'em before they come into town or kill too many more folks we should be protectin'."

"Mal, it's not your fault," Zoe said gently. "There's no way you could've known, not from that one bulletin."

Mal cracked his neck and didn't look at her. "Maybe. Maybe not. Fact is, we're the only ones who know what we're lookin' for. I'm not bringin' the part-timers onto this; I don't want a panic. But we might have to try and convince a few more people before this thing runs its course."

Simon could feel the headache pounding behind his eyes rise a notch as another thought occurred. "I could call the Centers for Disease Control. Tell them we need to quarantine the town, try to work out a cure--"

"Simon," Zoe said gently, using the same voice she used on River when she was being temperamental and demanding. Simon winced, looking away from her, not wanting to hear what she was going to say.

"There ain't no cure, Doc." The Sheriff's voice was getting harsher, the way it did when he was completely furious. "Have you been listenin' at all? It's a stake in the heart, a chop-off-the-head, sunlight, fire, or a bucket of holy water that'll fix these people. Nothin' else. You can't be thinkin' you can experiment on 'em, 'cause it's too damn dangerous and it ain't worth it finding out what we already know."

"You can't be sure. There has to be a cure, for every disease there's a cure, except for the ones we haven't isolated yet, but it's still there--"

"Yeah, right. Like there's a cure for what ails your loony sister?" Jayne asked, snorting. "If there is, you ain't been smart enough to find it."

Simon was on his feet and halfway to him, his vision clouding red, before Wash grabbed his arm and pulled him back, Zoe on the other side, and Mal had Jayne pushed against the wall with one finger. "Don't go making this worse, Jayne," he was saying, very quietly. "I brought you in on this for your own protection, but that means you better be able to handle it without turning on the rest of us."

"I don't wanna handle it! Goddamn it, Mal, I don't wanna know this! I don't wanna go seein' monsters in every corner! I coulda died happy never seein' what I seen!" Jayne's voice rose into a roar even as his face crumpled like a toddler's. "Vampires. Demons. And Jesus knows what-all-else out in the dark, and you want me to act **normal**?"

"That's exactly what I'm askin' you to do." The Sheriff took a step backward, his face blank. "You can either stand with us, on our home territory, where we know the people and the numbers... or you can leave, and wonder for the rest of your life what's gonna jump out at you with no one to cover your back."

Jayne's face sagged, probably with the same sick fear that plunged through Simon's stomach at the thought. "Shit, Mal..."

"I know. I truly do know, believe me." Mal shook his head. "But it's gotta be like this. There's no cavalry coming, no one in authority who's gonna believe us -- the Army already proved that -- and I'll be damned if I leave this town to the monsters without putting up a fight."


	9. Chapter 9

9.

"Mrs. Warren was in the nursing home down in Bailey. They thought she died of natural causes, but I could tell, when they had the funeral... something bad was going to happen." River pushed her hair out of her face. "Sometimes I just know things. Sometimes I have dreams, and they tell me things, poems and metaphors and puns without words." She stretched out her legs, drumming her heels a little on the lid of the sarcophagus. "That's how I knew to find the vampires in the bell tower. I dreamed the mice running up the clock."

Listening to River talk was kind of like having someone read Lewis Carroll to you without the footnotes. It made sense on its own, but if you stopped and thought about it too much, you'd get lost. "That's what you were doing up there."

"Yes. And then I was celebrating." She pouted. "But Simon got worried, and spoiled it all."

"I think whoever called the cops did that."

"But it wasn't spoiled and unfunny until Simon was worried. It's always like that." River looked thoughtful. "Maybe he would worry less, if I told him I could take of myself now."

"Maybe." Or maybe he'd lock her up in a mental hospital, convinced she'd finally had a complete psychotic break. Oz was fairly sure that would be a bad thing, mostly (a rift with her brother, more doubt about her sanity, not to mention, hey, trauma) even if logistically, it might be a good thing (easy to break out of, easy to get River away to be a Slayer somewhere else if she wanted). Overall, he leaned toward waiting until Giles or someone else official showed up to give Simon Tam the explanation. No one who'd been to med school and worked in a government job would ever take Oz seriously if he tried to tell the guy about vampires. He'd probably earn himself a padded cell right next to River.

"He blames himself. Because I'm still bent, almost broken." River played with her lighter again, opening and shutting it, letting a little flame flicker inside her hands, then closing it off. "He thought he could straighten me out, like a tree. Give me the right kind of nutrients, and I'd grow. Or a vine. Put up a trellis, show me how to climb. Not let me down." She sighed, closed the lighter again before she looked at Oz. "He doesn't understand what the wind did to me."

Her face looked more normal and open than it had during any of the rest of their conversation. "What did it do to you?" he asked quietly.

She tilted her head up to gaze at the moon. "The wind blew through me, tried to take everything. I had to bend and twist myself to not be crushed." There was no trace of whimsy in her voice now, no subtle hint that her manner of speech was at least half a joke. "The monster came-- gold and red and beautiful. She only said, 'I'm lost. My scabby minions are missing. I need a meal. Come here--' And then she reached out her fingers, so--" River touched Oz on the temple, a faint brush, and he froze, watching her eyes move across his face, unseeing.

"And the wind tore through the woods, took all the leaves, all the grasses, all the flowers-- twisted the trees, uprooted the bushes, crashing bashing smashing through, and then... it was gone." She dropped her hand from his face, her expression mournful. "The trees stayed bent. They had to, or they'd die. The shrubs grew again, but they were shorter, bluer, strange. The grass that came back wasn't the same as before. And there were no more flowers."

Oz stayed silent. 'I'm sorry' would be irrelevant, and inadequate. It almost sounded like how it had been for him when he first became a werewolf: something outside him changing him, and his deeper self changing in response. Until he almost couldn't remember who he'd been, what he'd been like, before the wolf. But he didn't know if she'd appreciate the comparison.

"You understand." She was staring at him again, hard and focused, and he nodded, not trusting his voice. "The wind didn't win." River climbed to her feet. "But neither did I." She waited until he was standing next to her before she jumped off the sarcophagus.

* * *

"So, do we have a plan? They always have a plan for monster attacks on small towns in the movies." Wash paused, looking disturbed. "Wait. They always _die_ in the movies. Maybe we don't want a plan."

"The plan is, we patrol, lookin' out for suspicious characters, people we haven't seen during the day, and make sure we know where the hell they are at all times. We try to keep the general population from goin' out alone-- and knowing about Terrence, with what I'm tellin' the reporters tomorrow, that'll probably help." Mal rubbed his face. "And we're gonna have to do a search of the abandoned buildings around town during the day. Hell, maybe have the fire department do a couple of practice burns, maybe that'll scare 'em out. We'll burn the rest if we have to."

"Arson? We're discussing arson as a way of dealing with vampires?" Simon shook his head. "Isn't there some way we could... I don't know, talk with them, get them some help--"

"Tam, if you say one more word about negotiating with the goddamn undead, I will send you to them as an ambassador with an apple in your mouth," Mal threatened. "They are the **enemy**. They ain't people. People don't kill harmless old men in their own homes. People don't flinch away from a cross. And people don't go 'poof' when you kill 'em. Just give it up. We got a convention of parasites in town, and we have to exterminate them without losing anyone else or causing a general panic. At least if people stay indoors and not invite strangers in, they won't be at as much risk. Damn things can't walk in uninvited."

"I'm sorry, I just--" Simon stopped, his mouth going dry. "Oh god. River. She sneaks out when I'm not looking, and this would terrify her-- how am I going to explain? How am I going to keep her safe from these people?"

"Maybe now y'all will borrow my leg irons to keep her in one place, like I said you should," Jayne said, pushing away from his spot on the wall. "It's Saturday night and I'm off the clock, Mal. So I am goin' to Helen Wheels' to get drunk like civilized people, unless you got some other dead guy you want me to shoot?"

"Jayne--" Mal started in exasperation, then visibly gave up. "Oh, hell. Drink yourself stupider. Just be sober for roll call tomorrow at five. And don't get in any fights I'll have to suspend you for, I don't have the time for foolishness. You'll be busted back to meter maid if I have to haul your ass out of there for fightin'."

"Right. Sure. Like you can afford to do that now," Jayne muttered as he stomped out the door.

Everyone was quiet for a second after Jayne left, then Zoe looked at Mal. "Think he'll bolt?"

"Fifty-fifty. Too soon to tell." Mal rolled his shoulders, exhaustion creeping into his eyes. "Damn if I know how to make it easier on him. On any of us. Damn if I asked for this. Goddamn--" He shook his head, expression quietly furious. "Like there is a God, if monsters like vampires exist. Like any of this is gonna make a difference--" He caught Zoe's eyes, and he closed his eyes. "I'm tired. And I got paperwork to do. I'd appreciate it if you would all leave me alone here for a bit."

"Of course, sir." Zoe gently pulled Wash to his feet. "I'll be going over those reports in the bullpen like you wanted. All right?"

"Yeah."

"Mal--" Wash sounded at a loss, then shook his head. "We're here with you, man."

Simon blinked, then nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry if I sounded confrontational, Sheriff, but-- you have my support. I don't want anything like what happened to Terrance to happen to anyone else. That's all."

Mal looked up from his desk, and nodded, stone-faced, at all three of them. "Thanks."

Simon followed Zoe and Wash out of the Sheriff's office, his mind still whirling with everything they'd been told. Demons who took over bodies. Immortal killers who fled from the sun. All the things he'd dismissed as legends and medical misunderstandings, all the long histories of men and women falsely accused, and now--

His phone went off, and he answered it, still heading for the exit, wanting to see River, reassure himself that his sister was fine and that none of this nightmare had touched her. "Simon Tam."

"Simon, it's Inara."

He stopped walking, a horrible feeling seizing his gut. "What's wrong? Is River--"

"She's gone, Simon, she sneaked out of the house. I'm so sorry, I was watching her, I swear I was gone only ten minutes to answer the phone, I had no idea she'd do this, and when I came back I didn't realize she was gone until I looked around and I couldn't find her--"

"She's not there? What do you--" Oh, God. Oh, no, no, not now, not when there were monsters in the shadows, River would be such easy prey, God, she was easy prey two years ago, this wasn't happening. This was not happening. "Are you sure? Inara, have you checked everywhere? Maybe she's just hiding, playing a game--" He could hear his own desperation, the same rationalizations he'd used when they'd said 'brain damaged' in Los Angeles, saying how she might snap out of it any day, she'd be fine, she'd be okay, she had to be, she had to be.

"Matteo is out looking for her in the gardens with Reverend Book, and I asked Katie and Paul to see if she's out at the stables, I... Simon, I am so, so sorry, I'm sure she's fine, but--"

"I have to go," Simon said abruptly, sure he would start screaming at Inara, who was not to blame, if he didn't get off the phone in the next ten seconds. "Call me if you find her." He flipped the phone shut without saying good-bye and turned around to go back into Mal's office and ask for an All Points Bulletin for his sister, who was probably out talking to the streetlights, flirting with danger. Again. _I wonder if Jayne would let me rent the leg-irons by the week or the day._

* * *

"At least your witch hurt my monster," River said, ambling down the path toward the gates. "I saw it, all red-black-fire, in one of my dreams, a few days after the light asked me to choose in May. She did to my monster what my monster did to me two years ago. Exchanged the pain, exchanged the brain."

"She's not my witch any more," Oz said, not having a response for the rest of what she'd said.

"A little bit. One part of her knows one part of you better than anyone. The same for you." She turned around, walking backwards in front of him. "Have you been to Istanbul yet?"

He gave her a stern look. "That's private, River." She looked abashed, and almost stumbled before he caught her arm, his voice gentling. "Not yet."

"Someday, then." She looked happier, and twirled around twice before skipping ahead. Between the mood-swings and the convoluted language, the semi-telepathy or whatever it was she had and the adolescent rebelliousness, it was no wonder everyone thought she was nuts. As far as Oz could see, River was just very weird, and only as crazy as any Slayer needed to be to deal with what she was.

"I was going to a bar before we got sidetracked," he mused aloud, then cut her a glance. "But you're too young to get in."

"Oh, we'll get in," River said blithely. "We have to, in order to kill the vampires there."

Oz stopped in the middle of the path, closed his eyes, and shook his head. "You didn't think to mention this before?"

"Why?" She looked honestly perplexed, then very patient. "If we'd been there before, it would be too soon, they wouldn't let me in. If we got there later than now, it would be too late to save people. I'm mentioning it now because now is when we have to be there."

"Ah." River could be very Zen, apparently.

"Besides, Jayne's going to be there soon, and I can give him back his lighter. I wonder if he's missed it yet?" She giggled.

Or, well, not.

"C'mon. We don't want now to pass us by."

Oz sped to catch up with her as she took off down the hill through the brush, wishing that there was anyone within calling range who could get there in time, wishing he had about a hundred stakes and some crossbows, and maybe that flamethrower, and wishing that he felt as confident as River about their chances in the next hour. No Wish Demons or leprechauns deciding to show up and solve or complicate things for him, he concentrated on keeping up with the newest Slayer as they ran toward another battle.


	10. Chapter 10

10.

Vampires. God damned vampires.

He wasn't nearly drunk enough to deal with this crap.

Jayne took another pull off his MGD and ignored the fight brewing two tables away. Helen Wheels' was jumping, with a buncha outta-town cowboys firing up the jukebox and hittin' on the women. But he had enough problems without babysitting the tourists lookin' for a fight. Another beer or so, and he might start knockin' heads just for something to do. 'Til then, he had to do some thinkin', which left him all resentful and shit.

Why in the Hell had Mal brought him in and told him the truth? He really hadn't wanted to know. Jayne figured it was just Mal's way of makin' sure Jayne didn't end up a brain-eatin' zombie one of these nights. Mostly so's Mal wouldn't have to be shootin' Jayne's brains out.

There were just some things a man wanted to be left in ignorance on. Knowing where his weapons were, and knowing where other people's weapons in Serenity were, Jayne figured his chances were better in town than hellin' off into the sunrise. Didn't mean he had to stay sober to think about it. Let somebody else be deputy for a night.

Six beers in-- he blamed that later for the double take-- the customer gettin' a beer from Helen didn't seem to even be there in the mirror. He blinked, and figured six beers would make things go just that fuzzy.

_Wait a minute._

Jayne's well-used sense of self-preservation contradicted the alcohol.

_That man don't have a reflection. Which makes him the same as that thing in the morgue. And that's just all kinds of wrong._

Therefore, as soon as the fella looked away from the mirror, Jayne pulled back his arm and let fly, punching him out. The tourist fell back on his keister, momentarily stunned--

Then sneered up at him, face full of pointy teeth, glowy eyes, and bug-ugly bumps pushin' to the front. And not much hurt, neither.

"Aw, hellfire. Helen? Duck!"

Helen, smart ol' gal that she was, took cover as Jayne picked up a barstool and crashed it down on the tourist's noggin, letting the vamp have it. Sorta. Any other fella woulda been down for the count, damnit, but this one was gettin' back up.

The fight already being started, hell decided it was time to break loose-- in the form of the other seven tourists with the sharp-toothed yellow-eyed thing goin' on. Screamin' and yellin' and general mayhem commenced.

The slinky redhead he'd been eyein' by the jukebox earlier was kickin' a trucker like she was one of them ninjas, snarlin' through her fangs. The brunette chica she'd been talking to before the fight, was chomping on the neck of the cowboy buyin' her beers. In between trading punches, Jayne saw she had blood dribblin' outta her mouth, and it damn well gave him the heebie-jeebies.

Helen was deployin' her shotgun into the chests of two of the things comin' at her over the bar now, but they were shaking it off like they were softball throws, falling down and complainin' but getting back up. Just disturbin', it was, with them ugly faces and the hissin', and Jayne started lookin' for a way to get over there and help her.

Round about then, though, he found himself in a situation with the barstool fella: turned out he had a friend. And he believed in hittin' people in the back. Jayne found that damn unfair when applied to himself, and returned the favor by slamming both fists into the jackass's midrift.

Vamp shook it off and hissed at him, all snake-like. "OW! Damnit. Sonuva--"

"Why won't you fall down?" Jayne demanded. "I hit you three times already!"

"Well, why won't you fall down?" the ugly guy snapped back. "Goddamn ape."

"'Cause I'm the deputy of this here town, and no bloodsuckin' yahoos from beyond the grave are gonna disturb the peace when I'm on duty to bust heads! And besides, you messed up my drinkin' time, and that makes me sore!"

Jayne's stool got broken into kindling at this point, so he picked up some beer bottles, smashed the necks professional-like, not getting a handful of glass like some idjits, and started slashin' at his opponents with them. Even that wasn't doin' much; the glass would sink in, makin' the vamps snarl, but then the cuts would just seal up. Frustratin'.

"Hell, if that ain't gonna do it, what's it gonna take?" Jayne reached for his gun finally, ready to start shooting and maybe endanger a few civilians. Helen was already doin' it, even if it wasn't working all that well for her. Didn't work on the Terrence-corpse neither, come to think, but it was the only option he had left. He pulled his pistol and shot one of 'em in the stomach, only to have more civilians shriek and run, and the taller vamp fall down cursin', but still not outta the game.

"More than you've got," the shorter of the two vamps smirked, circling him while his buddy tried to kick Jayne's legs out from under him.

Which was when a cross-bow bolt whizzed by and buried itself in the chest of the smart-ass in front of him. Vamp had time for a surprised look and a gasp of "Well, shit," before he dissolved into a cloud of dust.

"Well okay then!" Jayne chortled, gettin' an idea. Grabbing the remains of the barstool, he started using the pieces as nunchuks and makeshift daggers, stabbing the one vamp on the ground in the stomach, where he'd shot him before. The vamp wasn't best pleased about that, but it still wasn't stoppin' him from trying to climb up Jayne's arm.

"Like this," said a small condescending voice.

_**POOF!**_

The vampire disappeared in a puff as the careful hand on Jayne's corrected his downstroke.

Jayne staggered, then got back his balance and his breath when he saw who it was. "Thank you! And Jesus, what're you doin' here? Mal's gonna kill you, me, then me again, damnit!"

"Returning this."

The doc's crazy sister smiled that know-it-all nutso smile, and used Jayne's lighter (_that's where it got to,_ he thought) to set fire to the shirt-tail of the vamp still standing. "Here," she said, tossing it to him as the vamp started screamin' and meltin' away. Outta the corner of his eye, Jayne could see a skinny little guy with multi-colored hair take out another vamp up against the wall, driving a wooden stake home, then falling down coughing from the dust explosion.

People were stampedin' out the door now that some of the bloodsuckers were down, all of the customers groanin', bleedin' and cryin'. River, hell, she was doin' some stab-happy ballet on _speed_, twirlin' and spinnin' and hittin' whatever vamps were stupid enough to get in range.

Jayne was just poundin' in the head of one of the last vampires on the bar-- with Helen pourin' beer over him, then strikin' a match-- when he saw that skinny guy who came in with River get grabbed by the two she-devils he'd seen before.

"You! You did this, you little creep!" the brunette accused him, shaking the guy and then slamming him against the wall with her hand around his throat.

"Mostly just helping," wheezed the shrimp.

River stopped beating on one of the sorry-ass cowboy vamps, who crawled under a table to get away from her, and stalked over to the fang-faced women.

"Put him down," she said, her voice cold.

The redhead grimaced and tightened her hold on the guy. "Make us, baby bitch!"

Crazygirl shrugged. "Okay." One stake thrown, and _poof_, no more redhead. A cartwheel and a spin, with the brunette gapin' at her, then River yelled "Down!" and the shrimp ducked. Then River slammed that pointy stick into the brunette's cleavage, leavin' one last big pile of dust.

* * *

"And that's when y'all showed up!" Jayne said, holding a bar cloth to the cut on his head, sounding aggrieved.

Mal stared at him in disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Hand to God, Mal, I ain't makin' it up--"

"Right." Mal scrubbed at his face, then slammed the patrol car door, locking River inside. "Get in the front. We'll sort this out at the station." He shook his head. "Least I can tell Simon I found his sister."

In the back of the car, River patted at the row of bruises around Oz's throat, and threw Mal and Zoe reproachful looks as the car pulled away from Helen Wheel's parking lot.


	11. Chapter 11

11.

_No-body knooooows..._

_The trouble I've seen_

_No-body knoooows..._

_but Jesus..._

As jails went, Serenity's wasn't bad. No rats. Food and water. No one threatening the prisoners with bamboo canes. Three cells, right out in the main room, and a security door to the more secure lock-up for those who'd be staying longer than one night.

Still, Mal had to be glad he'd never had an occasion to spend a night in any of those cells. Boring, uncomfortable, and everyone stared at you, there being not much else to look at.

Although if he'd been on the other side, possibly he would have felt he had to do more than stare back at the Sheriff. Right now, the sole prisoner was in some kind of yoga position on the bottom bunk, meeting Mal's gaze without blinking. Kinda like a fox stuck in a carrier case. You just knew it would be all kinds of trouble to let it out, but it continued to look harmless on the off chance you might forget that.

Jayne was glowering from the doorway, but not saying anything either. Mal's reaction to his recounting of events seemed to have left Jayne in a sulky pout. River's brother had already put stitches in the cut on his forehead, and taped up his knuckles. Mal was inclined to think the alcohol and the embarrassment of getting caught flat-footed when the vamps started attacking accounted for his sulks. That and not calling in when he surely knew that it was what Mal would've wanted.

Zoe and Wash were watching the prisoner with a certain amount of wariness. Zoe had told him about their lunch the day before, and their little chat about River. It did seem to point to him having some ulteriour motives in hooking up with the girl now. Which created all kinds of problems when Mal really wasn't up for any more.

_Sometimes I'm up _

_and sometimes I'm down_

_Yes lord, you know_

_sometimes I'm almost to the ground_

_O yes, Lord, still!_

The relative silence made the thread of River's thin, angry song carry all the better from outside. She had a real nice rhythm going, too, stomping her feet on the roof on the downbeat. Mal's headache was now pounding in counterpoint to it, a slow doom-laden thud that told him yet again how screwed they all were.

The door to the outer lobby opened, and the good Dr. Tam stormed back in. "I can't get her down. She's made a sign that says 'Free Oz'. She got up without a ladder somehow, and she stomped on my fingers when I tried shimmying up the drainpipe. There's a crowd forming and they're cheering her on!" He halted in front of the prisoner's cell and demanded, "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing she didn't already know."

"That's a mite unhelpful," Mal drawled, finally letting his chair drop to the floor as he got to his feet. "You want to explain how you got River into Helen Wheels' when I know she doesn't have a legal I.D.?"

"People were running away by the time we got there. No one was carding," Daniel Osbourne told him.

"That don't make it any less a crime. Care to comment on that?"

"I'd like to invoke my right to legal counsel."

Simon tried to reach through the cell bars in a futile effort to strangle him from ten feet away."I'd like to invoke my right to break your face!"

"Doc! Hey now, settle down." Mal dragged Simon away from the cell, and pushed him into one of the chairs by the wall. "You are not helping. Not in the least. I know she's your baby sister, but sometimes, a girl's just gotta bust out and fight people." He shot 'Oz' a speculative look. "Or at least that's how she's telling it. And I don't think she'll be changin' her mind as long as some people are around to encourage her."

"That, that low-life transient no-good-- Arrest him! Charge him! What's the good of you being the sheriff if you can't keep him in jail forever?"

"You do see how he's behind bars, right?" Mal checked. "Under arrest for disturbing the peace? What more do you want from me?"

"I want action," Simon said with intensity, slumping against the wall. "I'll settle for him gone. Gone! Is that so hard to understand?"

Mal traded a look with Zoe, then jerked his head toward the door. Zoe got to her feet with a small sigh, and smiled gently at Simon. "Let's let Mal handle this, Doc. You and me should go out there and get River down before she winds herself into a flow-blown fit. Wash? Wanna help?"

"You know I'm always up for a good River-rescue." Wash gave the guy in the cell one last speculative look, then got to his feet, heading for exit and holding the door when he got there. "You coming, Doc?"

Simon rolled his eyes, and glared at Daniel Osbourne one last time. "Stay. Away. From. My sister." He pushed back from the bars, muttering, "She's been through enough."

Mal waited 'til they were gone, then gave Jayne a pointed look. Jayne stared back. Mal rolled his eyes and pointed out the front doors. "Go disperse the crowd, Jayne. If she ain't being encouraged, she won't be as hard to talk down."

"Fine," Jayne grumbled. "I still say as how she's dangerous and oughta have the cell right next to slacker-boy here."

"Noted and ignored. Go."

Finally when they were alone, he turned back to the young man in the cell. "Now. Are you gonna be peaceable, not contact River, and quit hanging out in bars starting fights?"

Daniel Osbourne tilted his head, and Mal got that feral-animal quality sense again. "I'm all for peace. I can't speak for River, though."

Which at least indicated a tiny modicum of common sense under that funky hair. "Right. Okay. this is what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna wait 'til sunrise. Load you up in the Jeep. Have Zoe drive your car behind me and take it to Persephone. And dump you on the highway halfway there. You should get there just fine by mid-afternoon. You get in your van and just keep going. Vegas is nice this time 'a year."

The prisoner raised his eyebrows. "Is that legal?"

"I don't care if it isn't legal. I got enough problems on my plate right now. You're not a voter here, so I'm gonna make you Sheriff Roberts' problem. The walk to Persephone should take you most of the day and give you time to think about your options."

"It's not going to solve your other problems."

Mal's eyes narrowed at the calm tone of that response, and he snapped back, "No, but it won't multiply them, the way letting crazy girls get into fights with--" Whoever or whatever the hell had happened to Jayne. Mal half-believed him, half-didn't; if he hadn't been panicking about what he'd just learned, drunk and stupid, Jayne's story was cause for extra concern. But how likely was that, really? "Tourists, will."

"The tourists might come back," Oz warned.

"One more reason for you to head to Vegas then, don't you think?" Mal banged a fist on the bars, and then turned around to head out to the office. "Think it through, Mr. Osbourne. And if I catch you back here, I'll let River's brother loose on you."

"I can help," the prisoner said as Mal headed for the door.

"Don't think so and don't wanna hear it. Get some rest, you got a date with the highway at 6 a.m."

Mal stomped out, and tried to think of how to deal with the next problem on his hands.

Burning down a few derelict houses might be real cathartic tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning, half an hour after sunrise as promised, Oz watched the Sheriff's jeep and his van (driven by Zoe Washbourne) head down the road for Persephone. Right back where he started a day ago, almost exactly. He pulled out a phone and dialed Cleveland, where most of the Slayers and Watchers had ended up this summer.

"Hey, Oz. How goes it?" Xander answered the phone. Somewhere in the background, Oz could hear someone yelling at someone else for taking her favorite stake, and someone else calling back not to throw things in the living room.

"Crisis mode." Oz gave Xander a quick run-down on the current status of Serenity, Nevada: new (slightly crazy) Slayer, vamps moving in, Sheriff uncooperative, family even more so. "I need help. They won't listen to me, and River's going to get hurt if she's not careful, has someone watching her. Can you get anyone here?"

"Not soon." The yelling had died down and Xander sounded concerned. "We've got a confrontation coming tonight, we need everyone here. Give us a couple days, we can get someone else out there, but... hang on a minute, I want to check with Giles."

"Sure." Oz could hear the rise and fall of other voices in the background for a moment, then Giles' voice came on the line.

"Oz? We'll be sending you some help. Where are you now?"

"Mile marker 431, State Highway 95." Oz looked around, and said, "Right past a big red rock."

"Ah," Giles said dryly. "Well. I suggest you start walking back to Serenity. We have a local contact, the one who alerted us to the problems in that portion of the desert in the first place. After you've rendezvoused, give us a call tonight and let us know what action you're choosing to take."

"Cool." Oz squared his shoulders. "Tell them I'm heading west on the north side. Not too hard to spot."

"Will do. And if you do get arrested again, Oz? Please do call us. Bail money is the least of our problems, after all."

Oz disconnected and started heading back toward Serenity, turning over recent events in his head. Unless he was very confused, the Sheriff knew about vampires, and had some idea of what kind of danger his town was in. But he hadn't been willing to listen to anything Oz had to say about River, so had no idea he had extra help available. That was going to have to change, but how?

About half an hour later, a blue Cadillac convertible passed him by, then did a slow loop to catch up with him on the right side of the road. An older black man dressed in a minister's collar nodded at him from the driver's seat. "Good morning, my son. I believe we have mutual friends in common. Rupert Giles informs me that you need a ride back into town."

Oz squinted at him, then opened the door to the car. "The Sheriff's not going to be happy if he knows you came by."

"The Sheriff isn't going to be happy, no matter what happens. I hope to mitigate Mal's reaction with decisive action. Buckle up." He put the car in drive, and added, "Reverend Derrial Book, at your service. Former Watcher."

"Oz. Current ... adventurer." Oz put his shades back on. "And guitarist."

"Country-western?"

"Rock."

Book smiled, and put a CD into the stereo deck. B.B. King belted out along the highway, and Oz smiled.

"Things are looking up."

* * *

Mal slowed down at the exit for Persephone, and frowned as he took the turnoff. No less than three police cars were parked around the Swinging Door B&G, as well as an ambulance and a couple other cars. He signaled to turn, and counted on Zoe to follow him in Daniel Osbourne's van.

"Mornin', Monty," he said, putting the jeep in park. He got out and nodded at Persephone's chief, waiting for Zoe to settle the van into an empty spot. "Need some help?"

"Nope. Thanks for askin', Mal." Monty's eyes slewed sideways as the coroner pulled a gurney out with a zipped up bodybag, and Mal heard Zoe suck in a breath next to him.

"Monty." Mal took off his shades. "We need to talk."

The look on Monty's face, a mix of reluctance, anger and disgust, probably mirrored the one on Mal's. "Gimme a minute to shoo out the damn reporters." The big man sighed, and tugged on his handlebar mustache. "One of the distributors found the bodies this mornin' when they dropped off a delivery, and called the damn cable news before they called us."

Mal blew out a breath, and he and Zoe meandered off to the side, watching the police bring out three other bodies before closing up the coroner's van. Zoe gave him a meaningful look, and Mal nodded grimly. "I know. I know. We'll look for him on the way back. Can't leave him out on the highway."

"Mmm." Zoe tapped her fingers on her gunbelt. "They could have kept going on to Reno. More their kind of town than Serenity."

"We're not going to get that lucky." Mal waited 'til Monty was within earshot, then turned to walk off to the side of the jeep. "What happened?"

"Hell if I know! The Rimpole brothers are deader'n doornails, two other unknowns got their throats cut or somethin', and we're missing a regular bartender. Plus, this had to have happened Friday night, how the hell they kept it quiet a day, I don't know." Monty scratched at his bald head, and gestured to the back of the tavern. "Someone locked up, far as we can tell, then took off a day later. Who the hell stays in a tavern all day with a buncha corpses?"

"We had a bit of a disturbance last night in Serenity, too. Tourists. Biker types," Mal said, keeping his face solemn. Helped him not to grit his teeth. "They got run off, but we're worried they'll be comin' back. I'm thinking a general curfew of sundown, and warning the populace that some meth dealers are blowing through might help."

"Meth dealers? Mal, this ain't from no junkies on a rampage, I got that NBI bulletin same as you musta," Monty said in a vehement whisper. "Curfew, hell yeah. And I don't wanna panic anyone either, but don't play me the way the NBI would. You know somethin'. Don't you?"

"I don't—"

"Mal."

Mal looked at Zoe, closed his eyes, then carefully said, "I don't **know** for sure. But I'm thinking they're hiding out in derelict buildings. Serenity's got a good spread of them. We're gonna hold some burn-outs. See if we can't get 'em on the run. I would suggest—strongly suggest—that none of your deputies go anywhere without back-up for the next couple days, Monty. And this is all I am prepared to say. Except don't be invitin' any strangers into your home. No matter how cute or scared they look." He gave Monty a piercing look. "Terrence McDonald out on Highway 95 mighta done that, and he's gone now. Just… careful. Okay?"

Monty stared at Mal a moment, then at Zoe, who gave him a bland-as-bland look back. "Are you sayin'—aw, for Christ's sakes, Mal!"

"I'm not saying anything. Just telling you what I know for a fact." Mal shrugged, and put his shades back on. "Zoe and I got to get back. You call if you need back-up, you hear?"

"I hear. I hear all right." He gave Zoe a nod, Mal a glare, and then turned to stomp back to his men. "Thanks for stoppin' by, Mal. Always a pleasure, Zoe."

"Bye, Monty." Zoe matched Mal's stride as they walked back to their vehicles, and opened up the van. "You're thinking Mr. Osbourne will be safer in the jail, sir?"

"Yeah. And Simon's going to skin me for it, but I don't see an alternative."

There was no sign of him on the drive back to Serenity, though.

"Could be he hitched a ride, sir," Zoe said over her radio.

"Could be." Mal hoped like hell that was the case.


	12. Chapter 12

12.

"They're doing what?" Lyle spat tobacco in the corner, then smirked at Mitch. "Settin' fire to the abandoned buildings? That ain't gonna do 'em much good. They look like they figured that out yet?"

"That one sheriff guy, he don't look very happy," Mitch reported, squinting through his binoculars at the scene on the edge of Serenity. "He's stompin' around and yelling. Looks like the fourth place they set a burn to. May be it's takin' longer than he likes."

"My heart bleeds for him. Oh wait, my heart don't bleed no more than it beats these days." Lyle pushed his hat up, shaking his head in disgust. "Humans. Always the same. Gotta go for the obvious." Which mighta worked, if his sweetie hadn't had this terrific idea for where they could hole up instead of them empty houses outside of town. Weren't comfortable, but it was damn convenient and safe. "Sheep and cattle, all of 'em."

"That ain't totally true," piped up Yates. "what about that girl?"

"Will you hush about that girl?" Lyle snorted, turning around to glare at Yates, making things difficult again, getting the new boys riled up. "You all were stupid, you panicked just 'cause some crazy girl got lucky and one big damn deputy didn't back down. I got halfa mind to just stake you and Norbert here for bein' such damn chickenshits and leavin' the new ones to get dusted."

"She was a Slayer," Yates insisted for the twelfth time. "I am tellin' you, she was fast, faster'n she oughta be, and strong, and she knew how to fight, and--"

"And even if she was a Slayer, so the hell what?" Lyle demanded. "I fought a Slayer. Twice! And I'm still standin' here, ain't I?" Because he'd damn well run away both times, yep. But the new ones didn't have to know that. "If this is a Slayer, she's damn new and ain't got no prissy British back-up, like they's supposed to. She's one damn girl and she can't fly and she can't turn invisible and she can't be two places at once. Quit talkin' bout her like she's some ninja demon nightmare assassin."

"Could a Slayer take out a ninja demon?" wondered one of the new help.

"If they kill vampires I think they can kill ninjas," muttered the hand next to him. "Maybe not a ninja demon, though."

"Yates said as how they can take out big-ass monsters. Dragons and suchlike," speculated Mitch.

"Yates is about to get taken out and his tongue tied in a bow, just like the rest of y'all, if you. Don't. Hush," Lyle warned them, giving Yates an extra glare for starting this crap. "I say she's not a threat, and my sweetie says she's not a threat, and she fought the last Slayer a buncha times and came out okay too! Next man who whines about fightin' a Slayer gets pushed out in the sunlight, comprende?"

Mumbled agreement from the troops, and Lyle growled and let his fangs and brow ridges form. "I can't hear you!"

"Comprende!" yelled back half the new hands. The older ones just nodded vigorously.

Lyle relaxed, and took the binoculars from Mitch. "Now. We are gonna take over this town tonight. You all know the plan. Stick to it, and we'll have a nice little home base to use for gettin' tourists and gamblers for years to come. Fail me, and I'll show you what the Gorches did to a little town in Mexico in 1848." He squinted through the binoculars at another burning building. "Humans burn just fine if you light 'em up right too."

* * *

"We're going about this all wrong." Mal was staring at the ceiling, stretched out across his desk. It helped him think. 4pm, and sundown only a few hours away, and not one of the burns had either found a nest of vampires or spooked 'em into running. Maybe they were hiding out in the hills. Maybe they were hiding out near Persephone. Hell, maybe he was being too paranoid.

He wasn't willing to take the chance he wasn't, though.

Zoe was upside down in his point of view, looking down at him from above. Unlike anyone else. "Short of locking up everyone in Serenity and fireproofing their houses, sir, I'm out of ideas too. I'm about to ready to try and call Khalid, see if he's got any ideas."

Mal winced. "Yeah, I'm sure he's got other things to worry about out there." He sat up, hanging his hands over his knees. "We gotta think like them. What do they want? Torture, bloodshed, mayhem. Where can they get that?" He paused. "Now that the bars are closed for renovations."

Cheryl knocked on the inside of Mal's office door. "Sir? The Mayor called." She looked nervous. "Wanted me to remind you of the benefit at City Hall tonight. Said you should be showing a presence, and all."

"Benefit. Hell, I totally forgot about that."

"Public employees get in free, and all. I'm gonna be there." Cheryl smiled happily. "And they're hopin' the open invite gets people out from Beatty and Pahrump and Persephone. Should be fun!"

Zoe stared at Cheryl, then gave Mal a deadpan look. He stared back at her and groaned, collapsing back to lie on his desk.

* * *

"Thank you again for agreeing to do this, Reverend," Simon said, watching River from the corner of his eye. From her reaction, she might be giving him the silent treatment. "I don't dare take her along, not with recent developments."

"It's understandable," Book said, carefully avoiding looking River in the eye. "We'll have a nice quiet evening together. Go and enjoy yourself, mingle with the trustees and potential donors."

"If I can." Simon took a breath and looked at his sister. "River--"

"Can't be trusted," she muttered under her breath. "Doesn't understand. Stay home! I said stay home. No one listens."

Simon closed his eyes and then leaned forward to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be home soon, I promise."

"Shouldn't make promises you can't keep." River kept her arms folded and glared at the carpeting as Simon headed for the door.

"Good-bye, Reverend. Call if there's any problems. I'll have my cell phone with me."

"Have a good evening, Simon." Book waited until Simon was out the door, then turned to River, raising an eyebrow at her. "So I understand some changes have occurred."

River was still pouting, and shrugged. "Change is inevitable."

"Hey." Oz came out of the kitchen with a big bowl of popcorn, and River's face lit up in response. "So, the Reverend? Kinda knows everything."

River's startled look made Book's mouth twitch. "That's an exaggeration. But significantly more than I felt comfortable revealing before." He sighed. "And I'm sorry, my dear. I would that this hadn't happened to you. I know being a Slayer can be a burden, as well as a responsibility."

"Burden?" River stared at him, then laughed like a child, holding her stomach as she giggled. Book paused, nonplussed.

"Well… yes. Didn't Oz explain this to you? Your destiny, and the choices that can come with it?"

"One girl in all the world. But not any more. Fighting the darkness and the monsters. Already met one." River shook her head, smiling. "Now I can fight back." She sobered. "Like tonight. Have to finish them off, before it gets worse."

"We are at the disadvantage of knowing nothing about these particular vampires, where they are, what they want—"

"Most vamps want power, and blood. I'd guess they want control of the magic in the desert," Oz said, sitting down and offering the bowl to River. "So. They control Serenity, they control access to the magic."

"The population intimidated, enslaved—yes, that could work." Book rubbed at his eyes. "Perhaps I can talk to Mal, make him realize what's at stake. You said he seems aware of vampires?" He shook his head, mystified. "I would have pegged him as the most atheist of unbelievers, before the buildings burned today. But you seem to be correct."

"Sheriff doesn't believe. He knows," River said, stuffing popcorn in her mouth. "All alone, standing against the raiders." She shook her head. "He won't believe 'til he sees. Might be too late. We have to find them first." She grew very solemn, and Book wondered what she knew from Slayer dreams, and what her fractured mind only guessed at. "But they're in motion now. Too many possibilities. Have to wait until sunset."

"In motion?" Oz shot Book a worried look, and River nodded.

"They'll stop, and we'll find them. Stop them."

"I might have a way to accomplish that," Book said, opening up the cabinet where he kept his radio. "Any disturbance will show up on the police band, and then we'll be on the scene in minutes."

"Then I guess we arm up," Oz said. "And wait for sunset."


	13. Chapter 13

13.

Champagne circulated on trays. Salsa buffet to one side, beer and drinks at the free bar, and dessert buffet now unveiled and ready to serve. The atrium of Serenity City Hall had been hung with gold foil streamers and balloons, making it appear gilded and old-fashioned instead of just old, and the guests were arriving in groups now, shedding wraps and coats at the door. Perfect.

Always excepting the presence of the Sheriff, of course.

Inara tuned back in to Mal's rant after nodding to Matteo across the room to start cutting the cake.

"…not safe. Not with that group of bikers still on the loose, and I know you can't cancel it now, but can't you relocate it to your house? Place is damn well big enough to hold all these people."

Inara turned to give Mal a curved smile of derision. "You're joking."

"No! I haven't been joking about anything for the last five minutes, 'Nara!" Mal appeared genuinely upset, and Inara felt a tiny sliver of remorse for making the man's job more difficult. Terrence's murder and the recent upsets at the local bars were taxing his already limited resources and patience, it seemed. Not that those reserves were ever bountiful to begin with. "All these nice donors and rich folk, wouldn't they be more comfortable out at your ranch instead of here? C'mon!"

"While they would undoubtedly appreciate the surroundings more, it's far too late, and the City Hall is more appropriate, given the fundraiser's goal to raise money for a public hospital, and the public employees who are also in attendance," Inara said, nodding at Simon as he walked in, then smiling as she saw the look on Kaylee's face by the buffet. "This is for the **improvement** of Serenity, not a business deal. I would have thought you'd be pleased that I wasn't attempting a 'fast one' about the resort development."

"Damnit, Inara." The note of defeat in Mal's voice was new, and Inara stopped checking on the flower arrangements to focus on him, noting the dark circles under his eyes for the first time. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"You actually believe there's a risk that a biker gang will attack City Hall?" Inara managed to keep the laughter out of her voice with an effort. "Mal. Really. They wouldn't dare. There's far too many people here."

Mal's jaw set as he glared around the main Hall. The man needed a vacation. Exasperating and high-handed as he was, he genuinely cared about doing his job and protecting the public. Perhaps she'd arrange a voucher for him at a nice hotel in Las Vegas after this weekend?

As she followed Mal's gaze, Inara realized Zoe was walking the upper level with her hand on her gun. And Deputy Jayne Cobb was at the door, checking those coming in, one hand clutching an odd short wooden knife.

"You're genuinely worried." She looked around the room, then back at Mal. "What do you know that I don't?"

And there was his tell, that muscle-twitch that she'd cataloged ages ago. Oh, this was bad. Ice formed in her stomach. "Mal."

"We'll do everything we can, but I truly most sincerely wish you'd cancel this. Even now, Inara." His voice dropped. "It's not too late—"

He stopped talking, his eyes tracking a server by the salsa buffet. "Oh, crap. I take that back. Jayne. Zoe? We got trouble, six o'clock," he said, speaking into his shoulder mike.

Inara stared at the waiter, trying to pick up on what Mal had noticed. "I don't know him. Matteo arranged the help—" But Matteo was moving forward, frowning, and now gesturing at the interloper, looking angry at some mistake the man had made.

"Thank god for shiny punch bowls, maybe we can get him out of here—" Mal was already moving across the room, and Jayne was hurrying away from the door to join him. Inara rearranged her stole, feeling nervous and then giving a perfect smile as the mayor of Persephone came up to the staircase to greet her with his wife.

"Sheridan, Emily, so glad you could—"

An almighty _clang_ of the punch bowl hitting the ground signaled the beginning of the fight and the end of her perfect evening to benefit the new hospital.

The scream of brakes and the roar of a huge truck engine outside signaled something else.

* * *

Book's CB radio had picked up the chatter. Not the police; the monsters.

"_You up there, Mitch?"_

"_Don't call me that. You know I got a code name! We're heading for the goal. Lyle says to join us after you've finished off at the SuperPumper." _

"_Yes sir, 'Wolverine'."_ The snort was audible through the static. _"His sweetie's truck just left for the rendezvous. Takin' out the exit to the highway, just like the plan." _

The SuperPumper was twelve miles from Book's place at the edge of town. Book's car Ruby (whom she knew he'd named for his best friend, though he'd never said) tore down the road to the exit as if it had wings. The back seat bristled with weapons, and River didn't wait for Ruby to squeal to a stop before raising her bow, muscles moving smoothly, and loosing a shot at the first vamp she saw when they hit the parking lot: one who had the clerk pushed up against the outside wall, mouth already descending on his neck.

The high sodium lights bathed everything in an antique glow of neon and high-tech new plastic and glass. Monsters everywhere, pouring out of the back of a cargo truck parked across three spaces. _That's how they hid. They were moving all day. Safe in the dark. Darkened windows. _

A puff of dust, and the vampire she'd shot was gone, letting go of Joey-the-night-clerk, who fell to the ground at the entrance to the SuperPumper mart, bleeding from a wound to his neck. Book pulled the car to a stop close to him, and ducked out to gather up the wounded (_just like in 'Nam, only he was never in 'Nam, not if you check the records_).

More monsters than she'd ever seen before: fourteen, no fifteen, fiddling with the pumps, pushing barricades across the road, turning startled then snarling faces to her. Yellow eyes, long fangs, ridges and claws, truckers and cowboys transformed into walking pestilence.

Protect the wounded.

Kill the monsters.

Stop them.

_Twang_ went the bow again, and then she dove out of the car to spin at two monsters spilling gasoline everywhere. Kick, high-kick, punch one, spin the other, reach out with the stake Book had given her, stab-stab dead dead. Turn to the next assailant, no thought required, the moment here the action now.

Oz was shooting, _twang twang,_ like a guitar string, music for monsters, one down, disappeared into dust, one wounded and snarling. The wounded one threw himself at Oz—

Stabbed himself on an upheld stake, stupid monsters, not like the one who'd damaged her, changed her, transformed her, years ago. Vermin. _Stupid_ vermin. Slayers had been killing them forever, and forever they'd never learn. It wasn't fair, or right, but it made sense to River that she'd be chosen to kill them, after a monster had chosen her. She always learned the fastest of anyone.

Book was calling to Oz, shooting a crossbow bolt at another vampire, gesturing to two motorists who'd been cornered by one of the pumps. Tourists, they looked like, nice people dragged out of their Honda Civic and beaten before they were going to be bitten. Now free to get into Ruby, hide, take shelter. But they were too scared, minds whited out in fear and overload of adrenaline.

Oz jumped out of the car and ran to them, grabbing their arms, shepherding them the way Book shepherded Joey. Have to protect the sheep from the rabid blood-sucking rats.

Two more undead rats more dead, she didn't have to think, just _move._

They were spilling more gasoline. Only six left now, between her efforts and Oz and Book's, running away, stumbling and panicking in the middle of the gasoline, trying to get back to their truck. Flammable liquid, around flammable vampires. No sense. Nonsense. That wasn't a tactic. That was…

_Oh._

"They're going to blow up the SuperPumper!" River screamed to Oz, dusting two more vampires as she ran toward him from across the parking lot.

Oz's head jerked up just as one of the vampires ran up and sprayed him and the four other occupants of the car with gasoline. Then he held up a lighter, chortling.

Book slammed on the accelerator and went into reverse, grim-faced even at a distance, tires squealing as he pulled away from the mini-mart, trying to put distance between them and that flame.

River ran, stake out—

The vamp dropped the lighter. Unintentionally.

_Dummy._

River swerved around the pool of gasoline and the screaming, burning pool of vampire quickly dissolving into fire, put on speed. Running so fast, watching the flame lick its way to the pumps, faster and faster, and then it followed the trail to Ruby, even as Book swerved the car around.

"Out out out out out!" River shouted.

Book dragged Joey out of the car, and Oz pushed the two customers out ahead of them, and all five dove into the ditch behind the parking lot as the flames reached Ruby and set her alight, a small roar of flame going up—

And behind her, River felt the shockwave and heat before she heard the much larger _**KA-BOOM!**_

She hit the asphalt hands-out, on her knees, and lay there gasping a moment.

"…River?"

"'mokay." She rolled over to look up at Oz, and Reverend Book's worried face. The gasoline smell on both of them almost made her gag.

The SuperPumper was in flames, crackling merrily, and the truck that the vampires had arrived in was a blackened mess, like the other cars in the parking lot, including Ruby. The explosion had ignited, spread, and charred everything within range within seconds, now burning itself out, blocking part of the road, but not all of it. That had been the plan. Isolate Serenity. Make it impossible to escape. Didn't seem to matter now.

"They killed your car," she told Book, near tears. "They killed Ruby."

Book smiled weakly. "But we're alive. And she can be resurrected." His expression darkened. "Oh. Lord. Now how do we catch up to them?"

Oz shaded his eyes, looking down the main thoroughfare to Serenity, twelve miles away. "If the other trucks were full of vamps too—they were headed straight for downtown."

Twelve miles. She could run that and get to their destination in twenty minutes. Exhausted, alone, without the element of surprise, even if she was an avatar of destruction. "I need to bend space. And time. And I have no wings."

Book's expression cleared. "You don't need them."


	14. Chapter 14

14.

Kaylee had never been so afraid in her life. Not ever.

When the biker gang had come crashing through the doors and windows, that big cargo truck screeching over the lawn to block off the stairs outside, she'd thought that was the most scared she'd ever be. But she'd also thought that Mal and Jayne and Zoe would handle it, and it'd be horrible, but it'd be okay.

Nothing was okay.

Simon squeezed her hand, not looking at her but still looking at the … monsters, hanging onto Jayne, through a crack in the tablecloths. She couldn't count how many there were, they were moving around and they all looked alike because _their faces were wrong_.

"It's going to be okay," Simon whispered, both of them with their backs pressed against the wall under the salsa buffet. "They can't stay here forever. And the Sheriff will think of something."

Kaylee didn't say what she was thinking, which was if Mal was gonna think of something, he better do it awful fast.

There were two dead bodies on the marble floor, and she couldn't look and see who they were, although she was terrified that she knew them.

She'd been havin' such a good time, she and Simon had been dancing, and he'd laughed at her joke about the jackelopes, and then they—

_Don't think about it don't think about it don't think don't scream just breathe, real quiet, so they don't hear you and come over here and look under this table..._

"Where is she?"

That girl standing in the center of the atrium-- if she was a girl and not a monster-- she reminded Kaylee of some of the meaner cheerleaders in high school, not real smart but real sharp. Stuck-up and bossy and impatient. She'd been stompin' around since she came in with the truck, and she'd thrown Sheridan VanMeter straight into the wall. He wasn't moving, neither. She was getting more and more upset, too.

"I want the Slayer! You promised me, Lyle! You said she'd be here once we got started!"

"Harmony, sugar-pie…."

"Don't sugar-pie me, Lyle Gorch! I don't see a Slayer! Everyone was supposed to be here! It's my party." The blonde's lower lip quivered, and Kaylee thought she was gonna bust into tears right then and there. And what did she have to cry about, anyway? "It's my party to crown me Queen of Serenity and the desert and that magic vortex, and the main guest of honor isn't here to be killed! How is that fair?" She picked up a big vase that had the pretty morning glories Inara must've ordered in it, and threw it down the stairs from the landing, hitting one of the other monsters in the head. "Fix it!"

"Right." Lyle, the boss cowboy monster, heaved a big sigh, then reached out for one of the waiters. "Where do we find the Slayer?" He shook the waiter 'til his teeth rattled, then smiled, and it was all Kaylee could do not to whimper. "If folks don't start telling my sugar pie what she wants to know, folks will be sufferin'. You can count on that."

"Excuse me." Kaylee squeezed Simon's fingers as Inara spoke up, thinking _No, Inara, no, don't say nothing! Don't make them look at you!_ "I'd like to be of assistance, but I'm afraid we need some clarification." She was standing on the stairs now, carefully arranging her wrap over her shoulders, her voice real steady. "We're not acquainted with this—Slayer? That you're looking for. If you could give us some more information, perhaps we can come to some accommodation." Her voice almost died off as Lyle stalked over to her, but the blonde Harmony girl waved him off, clip-clopping down the stairs in her high heels until she stood even with Inara.

Posed like that, Harmony looked like one of those streetwalkers from Vegas, with Inara looking like a real lady. Kaylee felt awful proud of her even as she got more scared.

"Who are you? And where did you get that dress?" Harmony reached out to trace the straps on Inara's evening dress, and her face melted into looking like a girl's, not a monster's. "That's Vera Wang, isn't it?"

"You have a wonderful eye for designers," Inara complimented her, and Kaylee fought the urge to giggle, afraid it might come out all crazy-sounding and attract attention. "Yes, it is. Last year's, I'm afraid, but it's one of my favorites." She paused, then said, "I'm Inara Serra. Mayor of Serenity. We haven't been properly introduced, Harmony, is it?"

"Christ's sake, Inara…" Mal was muttering from the floor over by the entrance, where one of the monsters had his boot on the Sheriff's chest. "Don't be nice to 'em!"

"Hush, Mal. Let me handle this." Inara didn't even look over at him. Jayne was still growling with two of the monsters keeping him from moving. Kaylee wondered where Zoe was, but didn't dare peek out from under the table any further. "What do you want? And, forgive me. But—what are you?"

"I'm Harmony Kendall, and we're vampires," the girls said, easy as anything, like everyone shoulda known. "We're taking over. If we like you, maybe we'll make you like us, but if we don't, we're going to kill you." Someone over by the other wall was crying now, and Kaylee had to squinch her eyes shut not to start herself. "Do you want to live forever?"

That shoulda sounded all kinds of impressive, but mostly it sounded silly. Kaylee had liked _Interview with a Vampire_, but she never, ever, not in a million years wanted it to be true.

"Not particularly." Inara's voice was finally sounding kinda strained. "Tell me more about this Slayer. Is she… like you?"

"No, not even. She wishes." Harmony made a face, and tossed her hair. "Okay, so, she's this lame _freak_ who's supposed to be killing us, can you believe that? She's a hyper-violent lamer who hangs out with old British guys, the pervs. And she always tries to spoil things for us."

_Bring on the Slay-girl!_ Kaylee thought. She could hear Simon swallowing hard next to her.

"We just want to deal with her first before we take over. That way, everything goes quicker. But she's not here! So typical." Harmony rolled her eyes. "The Slayer at my high school? Was this total Cinderella who never had a date. I should've known your Slayer wouldn't be any cooler."

"High school," Inara echoed, sounding all interested. "So, this Slayer is young? About your age? Or, the age when you became immortal."

"I'm twenty-two, but I'm never going to look older than eighteen," Harmony said in a gossipy tone. Some of the other vampires were shuffling around, looking restless now. "But yeah, the Slayer's a girl. Young, my age. She'll be a jockette with no social life. Do you know anyone like that?" Then she laughed, sounding genuinely amused. "Well, you wouldn't. You're awesome." She turned and stepped down the stairs, looking around the room. "Okay! So. Tell me who the biggest dork girl in this little podunk town is, and then call her and tell her that Harmony Kendall is calling her out!"

Total, ringing silence. Simon's fingers tightened on Kaylee's, and when she looked over at him, he was mouthing a name. _River._

Oh, no! No one would say that, would they? They wouldn't make that up and say it was her just 'cause she was strange and they were scared—

"ANSWER my WOMAN!" Lyle Gorch roared, and Kaylee pressed herself even closer against Simon, and felt the tears dripping down her face. Gorch threw the waiter at the other buffet table, and the poor man crashed into it and turned it over, and, and, pretty soon they'd have all kinds of worse trouble—

_Whang! Whizzzz!_

"GODDAMNIT! Who's shooting at us?"

_Zoe_, Kaylee mouthed to Simon, and he nodded, face twisted up in fear.

"Go get that damn deputy down from the gallery!"

Three-four vampires rushed for the stairs, and Inara held out a hand to Harmony, pleading, "We don't know who she is! Honestly, Miss Kendall, this is the first we've ever heard of her, you can't expect us to tell you what we don't know!"

"This big'un knows. He was with her at the bar, where they were fighting us," growled one of the vampires holding Jayne up. He groaned, and Kaylee started shaking with fear. They couldn't hurt Jayne, they wouldn't, oh, God, please, don't let this be happening...

"Where is she?" Gorch asked, tromping over to Jayne, and reaching out for his arm. "Where's the girl?"

"Dunno and don' care," Jayne slurred. "You're crazy."

A crack as Lyle's fist met Jayne's face, and Simon flinched next to Kaylee.

"Where is she? Where?" Another punch. "What's her name!?"

"Just a… girl in a bar." Jayne sounded like he was getting punch-drunk, and Kaylee squeezed her eyes shut.

"Honey, let me do this." More clip-clopping of high heels, and then Harmony said, "Right. Now, you want to be on the winning team, right? We're powerful. And we're strong. And you're going to die if you don't tell us. So I'm going to make you a vampire if you don't speak up right now."

"No. No! Mal! Make 'em stop! I don't wanna be a bloodsucker!"

"Jayne…"

"Well, lookee what we got here."

Kaylee screamed as their table was pushed sideways, and one of the monsters reached for her—all yellow eyes and bad teeth and she'd never think of Lestat as sexy again, not looking at him.

"Kaylee! No!" Simon was grabbing one arm, and the vampire had the other, dragging her out from where she was crouched, and Simon with her, hanging onto her ankle. "Let go of her!"

That Harmony girl looked over at them, annoyed, then blinked, smiling. "Ooo. I think I found her!"

"No! What? I'm not a monster-killer!" Kaylee protested, panicking completely. "It's not me! You got the wrong girl!"

And then everyone was yellin' at once, Inara and Mal and Jayne, Lyle Gorch and a couple of his men unhappy that Harmony was taking credit for finding Kaylee, and then Simon rushed the vampire, and got slapped to the floor.

"Leave! Him! Alone!" she yelled, slapping at the monster, kicking and trying to bite him. "You don't hurt him! Simon!"

The vampire pulled her closer and she closed her eyes, crying, and heard Harmony saying in disgust, "Oh, God, what a wimp, I guess that's not her. Kill her so we can look some more."

She thought the pounding was her heart as she was about to die, and she struggled even more as the vamp's arm tightened around her, but then—

_Whup whup whup whup whup whup whup whuppa whuppa whuppa whup whup_

--Kaylee realized it wasn't her heartbeat, right before she got thrown into something and saw stars before she collapsed to the floor.


	15. Chapter 15

15.

Wash gently brought Emergency Services Chopper #2 down to rest on top of City Hall, rotors slowing down to a _thup… thup… thup…._ and found a moment in the middle of his panic to feel pride that he hadn't even tapped any of the antennas or flagpoles along the edge. _Precision flying, ladies and gentlemen._

Then it was back to total fear for his wife and friends. Book had called less than ten minutes ago, and since then all of his brain had been taken up with _What do I do if I lose her?_

River hadn't even bothered to wait until they were down on the roof to jump out, wooden stakes in both hands, a handful more stuck into a belt knotted around her waist, and a crossbow hanging over one shoulder. He still couldn't believe his favorite wack-a-loon was some kind of superhero. The universe had a sense of humor as crazy as River's, apparently.

Oz, the classic drifter out of the movies except for the wild hair, was not far behind her, and Reverend Book took a moment to re-load his triple-barreled crossbow as he got out. Then he looked concerned as Wash got out of the chopper too. "I don't think—"

"No. My wife is in there, and she's probably got a much better handle on this than I do, but no. I am not going to leave and be safe while she's fighting undead minions of the night." Wash squared his jaw and held out one hand. "Give me a stake."

River had stopped when she realized that Book wasn't joining them, and now came galloping back, face like a storm. "Fast! Now!" She glared at Wash, and shook her head. "No stabbing for you."

"I am coming with you!" Unless she punched him right now, in which case, Zoe would be very disapproving later. So Wash took a step back and put up his dukes, waiting for the inevitable knockout.

She pouted cutely, then her face cleared, and she pointed at the Chopper. "You have the SuperLooper. We have a priest. Obvious solution."

"We do?"

"Ah." Book reached in and pulled out Wash's super-soaker, checked the reservoir, and smiled in satisfaction. "By the power invested in me by the Almighty and the Methodist Church, I bless this water in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost." He coughed. "Now. Try not to fall behind."

"Right!" River and Oz were vanishing down the fire stairwell, and Wash had one more second as he ran across the roof behind Reverend Book to realize that he was living in a monster movie and by that logic, he was the one most likely to get killed (_they always shoot the pilot! So no one can get away!_) before it was too late to turn back, and they were clomping down the stairs, the sounds of screams and a fight drifting up to them from below.

* * *

Zoe had been doing just fine until the fourth vampire showed up.

She'd set up her ambush deliberately, leaving herself two directions to run, but with the railing around the atrium at her back. Because if she could flip one of the bastards over it they'd definitely end up stunned from the more than thirty-foot fall from the second top gallery above the atrium. Two guns, four stakes, and a little bottle of holy water, and she was set.

When Lyle Gorch's boys came storming up both of the curving staircases, she shot the two lead vamps in the head, two bullets each, left, right_, blam blam, blam blam_, always been a better shot than Mal, and wasn't this the time to prove it. Put those two down for the count, and gave henchman number three a second to think about what he was doing, tripping over the cowboy in front of him. Time enough to get scared.

Which gave Zoe time to shoot him in the head too, then stalk over and stake him and the one he'd tripped over. She'd just gotten to her feet to head back to finish off vamp number three, when a fourth undead bloodsucking sonuvabitch came rushing up the stairs, catching her while she was kneeling with a stake her hand, just as his buddy exploded into dust. She blinked.

Damnit, could happen to anyone, with the dust shooting up into their face like that.

She wasn't real sure when during this week that she'd gone from _vampires again, this is a nightmare_ to _vampires again, stake them now_, but it was enough that the sight of that one last ugly bastard rushing her didn't panic her, or frighten her, or do anything but make her more coldly _annoyed_. Wash didn't like it when she got _annoyed_, but it was serving her well now, when that blink cost her the time she'd needed to raise her gun or the stake.

The vampire slammed into her, sending her sliding backwards across the marble floor, with him on top of her, and he would have chomped on her neck but she already had her stake and her nightstick up, protecting her throat. His breath was enough to make her gag, but she inhaled through her mouth, shallowly, kicked at him (making him growl), slammed the nightstick into his head (making him snarl), punched and struggled and finally head-butted him, which had him rearing back and holding his mouth, howling.

Grimly, Zoe reached for her dropped stake again and shoved upward—

--and when he finally dissolved into more dust raining down onto her face and cleavage and dear God she was going to want a shower after this, she blinked the mess away to see River standing over her, her hand holding a stake too.

"Came as fast as we could." River gave her an anxious look, and held out a hand to help Zoe up. She took it, and was yanked to her feet fast enough to send her boots skittering on the floor again, River's small hand like a steel trap around her own. "Had to obtain transport. The vermin killed Ruby."

"Ruby?"

"Preacher's best friend." River's face was tragic, but she was already looking around, heading for the staircase down, sizing up the situation. If Jayne's tall tale and that bimbo vampire's stories were right, it didn't matter how loco River was, she was made to fight these things. "They blew up the SuperPumper, and Ruby with it. Casualties of war."

"Not your fault," Zoe said automatically, wincing at the thought of more dead, then checking her last stake and unholstering her gun again. "Did you come alone?"

"Not exactly."

Zoe had her gun trained on the person trying to sneak up on her before she even turned around, and sized up Reverend Book with only a little surprise, and some sorrow. "I'm sorry about your friend, Reverend." Although she'd never heard of Ruby before now, and she'd thought she'd known everyone in Serenity by name as well as sight…. Oz Osbourne came out of the same stairwell, and nodded to Zoe, then went to lean over the banister, taking in the fight below.

"As River said, a casualty, but in this case, not a fatal one," Book said, holding up a handful of stakes. "Explanations later. Now—"

"More vermin." River hopped up to straddle the staircase banister, tucking her dress around her legs, then went sailing downward face-front, staking a vampire who was running up the staircase on her way by, his open-mouthed gape of surprise puffing into a pile of dust that settled to the steps as River reached the next landing and hopped off to do battle.

"Be joining the hootenanny now," Oz tossed over his shoulder as he trotted down the steps after her.

"That girl," Book said in a resigned tone, "is going to break something in her rush."

"Best we go see that she doesn't, then," Zoe said, turning to the other staircase.

Only to be tackled again, almost falling over the railing. For a split-second she was terrified that she'd let another monster creep up on her, but then the smell of engine oil and cocoa butter sunblock #30 hit her, and her arms went around Wash, tight.

"Baby. Zoe. You're okay, you're alive, oh thank god, you are okay aren't you—"

"I'm okay, I'm okay." She squeezed the life out of her man (and didn't that sound funny now) and took a step back, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You shouldn't have come too, you hate this—" Fighting and bloodshed and punching, and he'd always deferred that kind of thing over to her, in bar-fights and house-calls, and she'd kill anyone that laid a finger on him, swear to God she would.

"You're here, therefore I'm here, and I have a gun! See?" He proudly displayed his SuperLooperWaterSoaker, and Zoe let loose with a helpless laugh, then grabbed his hand.

"Stay behind me. Do not get in my firing sights. And stay alive, honey."

"Yes, dear."

Then they dove down the staircase, into the fight.


	16. Chapter 16

16.

_Welcome to Crazyland. Population, Serenity and adjacent environs_, Mal thought, ducking another thrown plate, only to get hit with a champagne glass. "Hey! Cheryl! Watch it!"

"Sorry Sheriff!" Then his receptionist went back to her enthusiastic slinging of crockery and glassware from atop the bar, Troy covering her back with a big platter, slapping away anyone who got too close.

Somehow—Mal wasn't sure how—the sound of 'copter blades, and Kaylee getting smacked to the ground, had ignited the cowed crowd into a riot. It was like the stunned bunch of stuffed shirts had just been waiting for an excuse to let loose. The waiters and public employees had given an almighty whoop and surged forward toward the thirty-some vampires, acting like they all thought they were Van Helsing or the reincarnation of the Lone Ranger. Jayne was punching anyone who got close, with an assist from some of the construction workers from the County Shop. Simon had recruited some of the guests to pull the wounded out of the line of fire, along with Kaylee, and an enthusiastic contingent was now holding back the monsters like a sick game of Dodgeball: people got hit, or hurt, then dragged off by their team until the other side tried again.

Matteo and his horde of servers were spraying the vamps with every bottle of flammable substance they could get their hands on, and using the fancy candles to start fires all over the place. "Mas rapido!" Matteo was shouting now. "Mate a los vampiros!" A bloodthirsty roar of approval went up from everyone wearing a red suit jacket, and Mal could've sworn some of the vampires flinched at the charge of General Velasquez and his insane troops.

Seeing as how Inara's majordomo was handling that side of the room just fine, Mal went looking for Madam Mayor in this all this mess.

And wouldn't you know, she'd be fighting the lead tramp-vamp?

The crowd parted for long enough for Mal to see Inara holding off Harmony Kendall with the State of Nevada flag, keeping the little blonde bloodsucker from getting closer than ten feet by dint of being up the stairs from her, and demonstrably a lot smarter. They were shoutin' back and forth, Mal couldn't hear what, and he ducked behind Sheridan, his dentist, and Helen Wheels, all of 'em holding down a vamp and Sheridan raising a stake, then around the guys from Local #42 Fire Brigade takin' aim with fire axes at a couple undead losers who didn't know to back down. They purely loved their axes, did those boys.

He reached the foot of the staircase, pulling his sidearm and taking aim—

"You don't be pointin' that at my sweetie!"

Oh, Jesus, his hand was being _crushed._ Fingers smushed into his gun, must've broken a couple already by the feel of it. God. Lyle Gorch yanked his arm nearly out of his socket, pulling that gun up to point it at the ceiling, snarling into his face.

"My mistake," Mal said as conciliatingly as possible. "I can see that. Uh. Mr. Gorch sir." _Don't let him take the gun._ He'd never hear the end of it from Zoe or Jayne if this cretin got his weapon. "My, this party's gotten outta hand, hasn't it?"

"It's goddamn ridiculous!" Lyle bitched. "My boys shoulda put your punk asses down by now! What in the ruddy hell is the big idea, all of y'all fightin' back like this?"

Mal considered that with a wince, dangling from the vampire's grip, trying to get a breath through the pain as his feet scrabbled for purchase on the floor. "Honestly? You really wanna know?"

Lyle blinked at him, which made him look even stupider than usual, yellow eyes all puzzled like a drunk Wile E. Coyote.

"Y'all ain't scarier than meth-heads. Or rattlesnakes. Or, and I say this with all respect, tourists." Mal gave the vamp his sunniest, most shit-eating grin. "You should never come out of the shadows to threaten people, Lyle. You just don't have the intimidation factor to carry it off."

It might get his head ripped off in another second or two, but _damn_, that felt good to say.

"I got plenty of intimidating! I been at this more than a century! Century and a half! I was part of Slayfest '98, you yokel yahoo!" Lyle shook him like a ragdoll, and Mal really wished he had the time to pass out just then. "We're gonna slaughter all of y'all like pigs! Like screechy hogs! You're just making it harder on yourself! You ain't got a shot!"

Mal did a slow spin around again, blinking and gritting his teeth, then squinted over Lyle's shoulder. Hysterical laughter broke out of him, because the world had just gotten one more bit more hilarious. "I ain't the only one without a shot, Lyle buddy."

"Hunh?"

Mal was gonna savor that stupid, stupid look on Lyle's face 'til his dying day, the way it just froze, mouth open to gape in outrage—as the stake River had thrown from the banister she'd been sliding down buried itself in Lyle's chest. Which made up for the god-awful burn and pain in his arm when he collapsed to the floor. "Crap."

River landed on her feet in front of him, pulling him to his feet by his uninjured arm and screwing up her face in a scowl. "Taunting sandstorms again. Not smart."

"We can't all be mad geniuses," Mal answered, swallowing back bile as he carefully cradled his shoulder. "Or _vampire slayers_. The hell is up with that?"

"Told you already. You wouldn't listen." River made another face at him, which Mal had to concede he deserved, then dismissed him as unimportant—you could just see her doing it, thinking, _Mal's being dense, better things to do_—and turned back to the steps, fist curling around a stake. "Rescuing Inara now. Announcement?"

Right, priorities. "Hey! Miss Kendall!" He took a breath, and pointed at River, who raised a stake. "You all wanted a Slayer? We got one!"

* * *

Inara had been thrilled when the terrifying fascination of the situation had broken and the citizenry started fighting back. But even with all that, she hadn't been sure they were all going to survive it, and still wasn't. She'd seen River go sailing past out of the corner of her eye, but had been more concerned with backing up the stairs, and keeping Harmony Kendall from getting any closer.

"Why are you fighting this? We're going to win! And you'd be even cooler as a vampire! Especially with your hair!"

Inara batted at the woman with her flagpole again, and backed up another step. At least keeping her occupied meant she wasn't biting anyone else. "It's a matter of principle, Miss Kendall." Inara paused, smiling sweetly. "I can't let my town fall into the hands of anyone who would wear _that_ jacket without a fight."

"This is a genuine Lacroix!"

"If Lacroix was being sold out of the back of a van in Vegas. _Dear_."

"Hey! Stop being mean!" Harmony actually stamped her foot on the steps like a twelve-year-old, and Inara marveled that anyone had ever turned her into a vampire. What had they been thinking? 'Nice hair, let's make sure that shade of blonde lasts forever'? Honestly.

"Harmony?" Inara risked a look over her shoulder to see a young man about Kaylee's age, aiming a crossbow past her at Miss Kendall. "Thought you were going to Paris."

"Oz?" Harmony stopped advancing, and her vampire face faded again into the surprised expression and vapid prettiness of a teen drama queen. "What are you doing here? They're not hiring out-of-work guitarists."

"Cleaning up after the rats," Oz said, stepping down to flank Inara, giving her a nod of acknowledgement. "Your new friends are a step down from Spike. And that's saying something."

"So did you hear Willow's gay now?" Harmony smirked nastily, putting her hands on her hips. "What, are you trying to impress her long-distance? You don't get brownie points with the ex when they're not giving out brownies any more."

"I did hear that," the young man drawled, cocking the bow and bringing it up. "Not really pertinent."

"Who are you kidding? You're just as big a freak as the fake Slayer they've got here—"

"Hey! Miss Kendall!" Mal's voice cut into their badinage, and Inara's heart seized up for a moment when she saw the way he was holding his arm, and the tilt of his head. Pain. Oh, God, he was hurt. "You all wanted a Slayer? We got one!"

No, wait, her heard had not seized. She hadn't been worried for him. The big dope. Because standing right next to him was River, holding a stake, for the love of Heaven, and this had to be the craziest plan he'd ever come up with.

"Finally!" Harmony pointed at Oz and Inara. "Don't go anywhere, I'm coming right back." She jumped down the steps and then flipped her hair over her shoulder, swaggering over to stand in front of River. "Slayer. We meet at last."

River's eye-rolling was echoed by Oz's snickering and Mal looking extra-pained before he said, "Can't your boyfriend just shoot her?"

"Not my boyfriend. And better to fight," River answered. Her stake twirled in her hand, then blurred, and instead of moving to stake Harmony, she threw it at a vampire advancing from Mal's blind side, burying it in his heart without even looking at him.

Inara gasped. "How on _earth_… Wait. She really is this Slayer they were worried about?"

"One of them. The rest are coming in a day or two, if they don't hear from me," Oz said, voice mild but pitched to carry. He gave Harmony a sardonic look as she backed up a step from River, then turned to glare at Oz. "There's a lot more than there used to be."

"That's cheating!" Harmony pointed at him, and then turned back to River. "You have to fight me, or Lyle is going to make this go so much worse! My boyfriend will be over here in just a minute to show you!"

"Sweetie's dead," River said, cocking her head like one of the desert hawks, and before Harmony could do more than gape at her, she was cartwheeling sideways, arms out to stake another vampire that had gotten too close.

"What? No!" Harmony looked absolutely appalled, then took that one second when River's attention was away to rush down the steps and grab Mal by his wounded arm. Inara threw the flagpole at her, watching it bounce off, feeling helpless, then saw Harmony flinch and duck as Oz fired past her with the crossbow. "I hate you, Oz Osbourne! You're such a loser!"

"Opinion's mutual," Oz muttered as he re-loaded.

River had turned again and didn't say anything, just rushed the vampire and the sheriff, ripping Mal out of Harmony's grasp, making him squawk in pain as they fell in a tangled heap to the floor. Harmony squeaked, sounding utterly absurd, then ducked flung crockery and turned to leap up onto a table.

"Minions! The vampire Slayer is here!" Harmony shouted, pointing at River. "She killed Lyle! Get her!"

There was a momentary pause in the fighting, as all the vampires left turned to look at River, and Inara muttered in angry protest, "Don't, no, she's only one girl…"

"River, no!" Simon called across the room, standing up from tending someone, his face filled with fear.

About six vampires rushed across the room at once, the others being too busy or perhaps smarter, and Inara saw Harmony jump off the table and duck underneath as Oz fired at her again, missing—

And then there was just River, spinning and punching, throwing and twirling, taking on three vampires at once, big men, men who could have pushed around a woman easily while alive, and were now undead monsters. Snarling, terrifying nightmares, converging on one delicate-looking girl.

River flattened them like flies, swat, splat, thud, then staked them in the heart, rising with a tiny smile of satisfaction that surprised a bubble of laughter out of Inara.

"More?" River asked, stalking through the drifting dust.

Utter silence for a moment.

Then the collective nerve of the few remaining vampires broke, and they ran for the door. None of them made it.

River charged forward, staking three with an out-flung arm and sheer momentum.

Jayne and two firefighters tackled another, and held him down while someone demolished a chair for wood.

Oz descended the staircase to follow Harmony, shooting another vampire as he followed her.

A clutch of city workers—possibly from the Tax Office, Inara wasn't sure—screamed "Banzai!" and flung themselves on another, pushing a table before them for cover.

Matteo and his men pushed a third into the punch bowl, and Reverend Book signed a cross over it, as steam rose along with shrieks.

River jumped up on a table, flying through the air almost to take down a vampire grabbing Kaylee to protect himself, and staked him before they both hit the floor.

And someone grabbed Inara from behind.

"Ackhhh—" She choked, pulling at the arm around her, trying to bite him, and heard someone say, "You're my ticket outta here, Mayor Serra, so just don't fight too hard."

"Hey!" Mal yelled from the bottom of the steps, raising his hand unsteadily. The _wrong _hand. He was a terrible shot with his left. Inara was now more worried about what a bullet would do to her than the vampire. "Let her go! Put her down!"

"Not gonna happen, Sheriff. Bye—"

A growl sounded off to the left, and Inara twisted to see Oz. Only not Oz; his jaw had elongated, teeth lengthening and his eyes were completely black.

"Let her go," he snarled. Smaller than Mal, but somehow that didn't seem as if it could possibly matter, not with the muscles bulging through and ripping his shirt like that, as his hair lengthened into a pelt. "Now."

The vampire's grip tightened on her for one moment, then Mal fired his weapon, and both of them flinched, and Inara elbowed her attacker in the groin as she fell down the steps.

That was all it took. Oz was a blur of lengthening fur and teeth and claws as he rushed the vampire, and the high-pitched shriek of the vampire was echoed only seconds later as Oz snapped his jaws _through_ the thing's neck.

Mal had stumbled forward to break Inara's fall, and now looked like he regretted it; she'd landed on his wounded side. "Do I have to be shootin' you too?" he asked, waving his gun at Oz, very green around the gills.

"Mal, he just saved me, don't be an ass." She gently pushed the hand holding the gun down, and winced. "I'm sorry I landed on your broken arm."

"Not broken. Dislocated. Smashed fingers. Ow," he informed her, still watching Oz warily, as the young man changed again, as easily as he had before; but now back into a mild young tourist.

"You don't have to shoot me." Oz looked down at himself a little ruefully. "But getting me a new shirt might be a good idea."

Inara glanced back over the ballroom; the last three vampires were fighting for their lives, desperately trying to hold back River, throwing things from behind the salsa bar and backing away, and even as she watched, River ducked under the table, popped up like a jack-in-the-box on the other side, and staked them, one-two-three _fooooosh_.

"Finished," she announced, then turned back to the room.

To see everyone staring at her.

She flinched for a second, trying to hide behind her hair. She hunched her shoulders and scowled, tucking a stake behind her back.

Then Kaylee rushed across the room to hug her, laughing and crying, and nearly toppled her with the force of her hug.

The room burst into applause, cheers, catcalls, and howls of victory, high-fives were exchanged, and Simon slowly walked over to them, shedding his suit jacket. "Here. You don't want to catch cold," he informed Oz, handing it over. He turned to look at River, biting his lip. "She's really… she wasn't making it up?"

"Nope." Oz pulled on the jacket, looking from Simon to River, then said, "Problem?"

Simon's mouth twitched, and he shook his head. "There's going to be no living with her after this."

But he didn't sound sorry, to Inara.


	17. Chapter 17

17.

_From the City of Serenity, NV Official Web Site - latest update: August 8, 2003:

* * *

__**Police Blotter:**_

_Cheryl Butler's let us know that Sheriff Mal Reynolds will be back on the job next week, after his three-week recuperation following the incident at the City Hall Hospital Benefit. Mal appreciates all the well-wishers who stopped by to say 'hey', especially Sheriff Monty Driscoll of Persephone, and Sheriff Randee Warren of Beaumonde. _

_Reportedly, the NBI is pursuing leads on the identities of the perpetrators of the attack at this time._

* * *

Somewhere out on Highway 95, a trucker stopped to pick up a little blonde in a fur-and-feathers coat.

"Thanks, Mister. Which way are you going?... Chicago?"

Harmony flipped her hair behind her ear. "That's so funny! I'm going there too! My lame ex-boyfriend dumped me by the side of the road, can you believe it?"

Maybe being a Master Vampire could wait for a while. Or maybe she'd go back to L.A. eventually, when Cordelia calmed down. Hopefully Oz wouldn't tell on her. Not Cleveland, though, if that's where Buffy was. Or South America. She might run into Spike's crazy ex-girlfriend there.

She looked out the window, and sighed a little. _Bye, Lyle. Wish you hadn't gotten yourself staked. You stupidhead. And I hope that Slayer has better things to do than come looking for me!

* * *

__**Health and Public Welfare:**_

_The people of Persephone, Beatty, and Serenity would like to thank the medical personnel at Reno General Hospital for all their help last month during the crisis, and are hosting a tri-county barbeque on August 15 as thanks for their quick response. Spouses, children and pets are all welcome!_

_

* * *

_After the last vampire was dusted, and people stopped high-fiving each other, all the attention of the party went to assisting the injured. Simon and Wash took the lead in getting the wounded up to the chopper on the roof, with the help of the deputies and Emergency Services Personnel in attendance. Wash flew two flights of injured bystanders to the hospital in Reno as the guests congregated to talk over what happened, and exchange what comfort they could.

The six dead were taken to the County morgue; four of them, dead of vampire bites sustained in the attack, were to be guarded through the night. Just in case.

Mal didn't go on the first flight, since he wasn't unconscious, bleeding out _or _freaking out, which left him to Inara's tender mercies after Simon had made a makeshift sling for his arm and handed him some Tylenol, chased down by whiskey (courtesy of Matteo). Maybe it was the alcohol that made their conversation extra surreal.

"You're not going to fight me on the hospital any more, are you?"

"Damn, woman. You never stop, do you?" Mal asked. It was very disheartening to realize that he didn't have a leg to stand on in their ongoing argument any more. "You think that just because I'd like to be treated right this very minute for this arm, I'm gonna give you your way on this hospital deal?"

"No, but I think that if another attack like this is even slightly likely to threaten Serenity's population again, you'll jump on my bandwagon like a bandit," Inara said tranquilly, patting his uninjured arm. She hadn't left him yet, which gave Mal all sorts of warm uncomfortableness that didn't have anything to do with his broken fingers or dislocated arm. Especially when Inara was giving him that big-eyed look. "_Do_ you have any idea how likely it is that this will happen again?"

"Why're you asking me? I'm just the Sheriff. The hell do I know about--"

"You knew enough to expect trouble tonight. And what to do about it. You weren't even surprised. You just did what you had to."

Mal sighed. "Doesn't mean I got the answers here, 'Nara. May be that we need to have a little chat with River and her agitator wild dog friend. I don't know what started this, and I'd like to end it as soon as possible."

"If I might take this moment to interject..." Reverend Book had been helping tend those who didn't need to leave for the hospital, and now took a seat on the steps near Mal and Inara, clasping his hands together in front of him. "I think I may be able to shed some light on the subject."

"Oh you can, can you?" Mal winced again, and cradled his arm closer. "I'm gonna hate this, aren't I?"

"Since it's going to make your job, and Mayor Serra's, significantly more difficult? I'm afraid so." Book's lips twitched. "The world is older than you know. And it didn't start out as a paradise. In some places, reality—for lack of a better word, it bends. It warps. And somewhere out in the high hills of the desert, I'm afraid it even breaks...."

Mal hated being right. But at least Inara was right there hating this problem with him.

_**

* * *

Mayor Inara Serra - Mayor's Blog: **_

_Dear Friends,_

_I wanted to thank everyone who attended last month's benefit for the local hospital, for both helping us reach our financial goal, and handling the situation during the party with such grace and aplomb. Many people have spoken up to inform me that their financial assistance is assured, and to add that any other help they can give will be available—and I find myself genuinely touched at the spirit of Serenity....

* * *

_"So. There's no way she can get out of this?" Simon had slid down the wall of the hospital corridor after five hours of surgery. The last patient had just been sent off to sleep, and he finally had time to process what he'd seen, what he'd experienced, and the changes in his sister. He clutched a small cup of coffee as he listened to Oz explain River's new 'calling' to him. "We can't... I don't know. Negotiate with whoever picked her?"

"Kinda hard to do when we don't know who they are," Oz pointed out from his spot on the floor against the opposite wall. "Never have known. It just happens. And River's fine with it."

"She doesn't understand. She can't. Those people-- those monsters, I've never--" Simon took a breath to get his thoughts in order, then said, quietly but intensely, "She can't do this by herself. She's better, she's much better, and I get that she's stronger and faster than anything human and that she's not afraid. I can't be sorry about that. Or that she's happy. But there were thirty of them, Mr. Osbourne. _Thirty._ She's only one girl. If you, and Reverend Book hadn't been there, and if the Sheriff and Zoe and Jayne hadn't helped-- She could have died, do you understand that?"

"Yeah." Something about the way Oz said that made Simon look up from his coffee to meet the young man's eyes. "I do." He studied Simon, not judging, just evaluating. "She could die any time, though. Runaway truck, bad sushi. Lightning strike. That's not Slaying. That's life."

For two years, he'd been kidding himself, it seemed. There was no way he could protect her from everything, or fix her, or give her back normality. This just made it worse.

"When River was attacked two years ago and left like she is, different, damaged... My parents gave up. They wanted to hand her off to some men who showed up at the sanitarium. Because they said they could 'take care of her' the way she needed." Simon took a sip of his coffee, distantly noticing that it had gone cold. "I thought I knew better. I was sure they weren't qualified, that I could help her, and now... Now I have to wonder if she would've been better off. If this would have passed her by if I'd left her with them."

Oz shook his head, taking away even that vain wish. "Probably not. Probably would've happened no matter where she was, or how she was. Magic's weird. Never can predict it." He cocked his head, and Simon got a brief image of a fox terrier listening for something in the distance. That image of Oz changing into a wolf just would **not** go away. "These guys English?"

Simon blinked. "A couple of them were. Mr. Sinclair, something like that." He rubbed his eyes, and sighed. "They were from a law firm in Los Angeles. Wolf... I don't remember the other partners' names. Hartman?"

"Wolfram and Hart," Oz said, his voice very level. "Bad news. You made the right call."

"I did?" Simon considered Oz's grave expression. "Good to know."

"She's not going to be alone, you know. Slayers always have Watchers. Reverend Book isn't going anywhere." Oz tilted his head again. "You're not. Best Slayer I know is doing okay today 'cause she's always had back-up. River's got that too."

"But is it going to be enough?" Simon yawned, letting his head thunk back against the wall. "Can anything?"

"Is what gonna be enough?" Kaylee came down the hallway, two more coffees in her hand, and stopped in front of Simon. "Brought you more coffee. Why aren't you headed home yet?"

"We're talking about River. Being a 'superhero'." He smiled up at Kaylee, unable to help himself. He sobered after only a moment, though. "I'm worried for her, doing all these violent things. With assistance from Reverend Book, and apparently Oz knows other people who can help, but…"

"Simon! Like the rest of us aren't gonna pitch in? After tonight?" Kaylee gave him a huge, amused smile, and Simon could have stared up at her for hours. "Honey, she's got everybody on her side."

"Honey?" Simon blinked at her, and Kaylee turned bright pink, looking down at her feet.

"That just kinda… slipped out… Sorry…"

"Exit cue," Oz muttered, getting to his feet, and giving Simon a subtle thumbs-up as he turned down the hall. "Later, guys."

Simon barely noticed. He swallowed hard, and blurted out before he lost his nerve, "Actually I kind of like that. Honey. Me being honey." He stared up at her. "I was so scared you were going to get hurt. More than for myself."

Kaylee crouched down next to him, and carefully put the coffee down on the floor. "Is this your way of sayin' you like me?"

"I…" Gulp. "Yes?"

"Oh, boy, you are bad at this." Kaylee beamed at him, and leaned in to brush a kiss on his cheek. "But in a really sweet way."

Simon found himself grinning back like an idiot, and decided to blame the giddiness on sleep deprivation later, if he had to. "Is that your way of saying you like me?"

"Only for ages." Kaylee glared at him, and even that was adorable. Definitely sleep deprived. "I thought River would've told you!"

"She kind of did, but she enjoys torturing me too much to be definite." Simon found himself leaning toward her. "She's already found a brand new way to mess with me, though, so…"

Kaylee was leaning forward too, and he could still smell some of the salsa from the buffet on her, but she tasted like Matteo's special fruit punch.

They didn't stop kissing until he knocked over the coffee, then they had to get ice for the burns on Kaylee's hand, but all in all, it was definitely not the worst part of his night.

_**

* * *

Community Events - Multi-Religious Quorum on Faith**__, St. Michael's Catholic Church, Thursday, 7pm_

_Father Mike Preston welcomes Rabbi Schulman of Beatty, Reverend Book of First Methodist Serenity, and the Right Reverend Lee of First Baptist Persephone to an open round table on faith, God, and the twenty-first century. All parishioners from all parishes, and non-parishioners seeking comfort and answers, are welcome. There will be a Question & Answer session after the refreshments are served.

* * *

_"So that's the size of it," Mal said, looking around the Emergency Services conference room. "You all were at the party, or you were called in after the fight at the SuperPumper. Or you heard about it from people you trust and believe. You know what happened, and there's more on the way. May not always be vampires, but from what Reverend Book and these experts in Cleveland say, we're gonna get more weirdness. And not just the protesters next month."

He scratched at the bandage on his hand, then forced himself to stick his free hand in his pocket. "We got a vampire slayer, and she ain't going anywhere. But you all can. You can walk out that door and not look back. We don't know why this is happening. The Nevada Test Site radiation, old Paiute or Shoshone magic bouncing off the Nevadas, the end of the millennia, who the hell knows." Mal took a breath. "But if you're gonna have a job with the public sector of Serenity, you gotta be ready for it. We got support from the police departments in Beaumonde and Persephone, 'cause their sheriffs are clued in too, being so close to this vortex thing. But that's it. The NBI ain't riding to our rescue here. Here's your chance to quit, full retirement and disability package, supported by the Mayor. No questions asked."

Sixteen firefighters. Ten Emergency Services guys. Jayne, Zoe, Troy, Cheryl. Wash and the four paramedics. Simon wasn't there; had said that he didn't think it would be fair, to have him there to see their reactions.

"You can quit later, too. I'm just saying—it only gets stranger from here."

He looked around the room, waiting. No one avoided his eyes. No one looked for the door. Not even Jayne, and he'd half-expected him to grab the excuse.

Wash spoke up from the back of the room. "We're staying, Mal. We're not going to quit doing our jobs just because the job description expanded to include supernatural weirdness." He paused. "I'm not saying I speak for everyone, but I'm real curious about what happens next."

"Plus, more fightin'. And them vampires ain't so bad," Jayne sneered, tipping his chair back a little. "Not once you get 'em on the business end of a nightstick."

"This is our home," Zoe said, looking around the room, then back at Mal. "And I'm not leaving a teenager to do it by herself, sir."

A chorus of muttered agreements and nods, and Mal let out a breath. Who the hell needed the Army? Or the NBI? Or hell, even the Highway State Patrol. He wasn't sure he believed in a God that would create vampires, or tap little girls to fight them. But who needed God, either?

"You can change your minds later, if you want. But right now, I think I got the best damn set of government employees in the state of Nevada."

There were cheers, catcalls, hoots, and then someone asked, "That mean you're buying us beer at Silverheels?" The meeting broke up in laughter, and then everyone headed to the bar for beer and onion rings, quitting time be damned.

* * *

_**Arts & Leisure - Weekend Events**_

_Helen Wheels is happy to announce the return of Daniel "Oz" Osbourne on Saturday night, for a two-hour set starting at 8pm. Tickets are $4 at the door, admission free with purchase of $10 worth of drinks. Oz will be staying after his performance to talk to the audience and catch up with friends in town. _

_

* * *

_"You goin' to see Oz at the bar tonight?" Kaylee asked, keeping her voice low. She tried not to sneeze as the grass tickled her nose, eyes crossing as a bumblebee got a little too close. River was motionless next to her, her eyes fixed on their target only a few feet off. "Simon's taking me. Said he wants to dance with me."

"Finally," River muttered softly. "And yes. Oz promised me a song."

"Awwwww," Kaylee giggled, then froze as their prey turned to eye her. "I think… maybe…."

"Now!" River hissed, jumping forward to the right. Kaylee scrambled left, squeaking with excitement.

The jackalope jumped straight up, little legs churning in the air, but Kaylee had the bag ready as River grabbed it by the antlers, keeping clear of the feet. "Hold it hold it – Got it!" Kaylee crowed, beaming down into the pillowcase at their prize. "Now Mal _has_ to believe me."

"Should have known better than to doubt," River agreed, tilting her head to study their furry target. "And now he has to pay off on our wager."

"You got a bet on whether you could catch a jackalope?" Kaylee tightened the rubberband around the mouth of the pillowcase, careful not to get it too tight. They were gonna let the little guy go after they showed Mal, after all. "What were the stakes?"

"If I lost, no going to the bar tonight. He said it would keep me from scaring the tourists." River smirked. "But I won. So. He must render assistance. Despite his misgivings."

"Assistance at what?"

"You'll see."

* * *

_**Community Development – New Projects **_

_Ground will be broken on the new hospital at the corner of 8__th__ and Grand Avenue in two weeks, thanks to generous donations from the people of Serenity, Persephone, Beaumonde and Beatty. The new hospital will be able to house up to 200 residents at a time, and will include an out-patient clinic. It is to be named the Terrence McDonald Memorial Hospital, in memory of the local councilman who died last month. Terrence left his entire estate to the city of Serenity "for the benefit of my neighbors and friends." He will be greatly missed.

* * *

_"You promised," River reiterated as Mal knocked his head on the bartop. Kaylee was grinning and still hanging onto the squirming, horned little bundle, keeping it from hopping down the bar. Jayne and Wash were laughing their fool heads off, and even Zoe was smiling and shaking her head. "You did. I brought you a jackalope. The Wizard has to give Dorothy shoes."

Oz Osbourne was tuning up on-stage. Mal lifted his head to point toward the guitarist as Helen slid his bottle of beer over to him. "Look, your boyfriend's about to start. Can't we discuss this after he's played?"

"Not my boyfriend," River reiterated firmly. Although Mal had a second to wonder if she was smiling there, and to be vaguely horrified at the concept that his teasing might be accurate. "Not relevant. You promised. Tomorrow."

"How about next month? You turn eighteen next month, right?"

"Tomorrow." River folded her arms and glared.

"I got stuff to do tomorrow! Madam Mayor is holding another shindig and she wants me to talk to the money folks about getting you a real title!"

"Title?"

Seeing River was momentarily diverted, Mal seized on this subject and expanded on it. "Well, can't have you killin' bad things and not getting credit, right? So we figured as how we'd call you the Community Outreach Representative, and that way, we can call you in whenever we want you. Ain't that clever?"

River considered it a moment, then nodded firmly. "Very. Concealing the truth in plain sight. Your idea?"

"Yeah! So Inara doesn't get too uppity about getting that hospital of hers." Had to keep Madam Mayor on her toes, even if they were getting along a little **too** well these days.

"Very good. You still have to keep your promise. Tomorrow." River reached out for his beer and took it out of his hand, holding it over her head. He wasn't getting it back 'til he agreed, he knew. Jayne snorted into his mug, and Mal made a note to get him back with meter-reading later. "Tomorrow, you will teach me to drive."

Thud. Thud. Thud of his head on the bar. "I fear for all the denizens of Serenity and Nevada. I should not do this. It's just one more weapon in your hands, I know that." Mal sighed, straightened up and lifted his hand. "But all right, damnit. Give me my beer back."

"Thank you, Sheriff." River gave him a pleased look, and handed back his beer. "Now shush. This is my song."

Oz's guitar slid into a few slower chords, and he continued to sing, smiling at River.

…_And as she turns  
This way she moves _

_in the logic of all my dreams  
This fire burns  
I realize that nothing's as it seems_

_I dream of rain  
I dream of gardens in the desert sand…

* * *

_**New Hires—Community Outreach**

_Everyone in CO, please give a hearty welcome to River Tam, our new Community Outreach Representative! We'll be hosting a get-to-know-you luncheon for her next Tuesday, and all public employees are encouraged to attend at Silverheels' Bar and Grill, for free onion rings and a game of darts!

* * *

_"River?" Simon woke up from his place on the couch to the sound of his sister coming back in. He squinted at the clock. "It's five. Was there something out there?"

He couldn't help worrying. Even with everyone pitching in, everyone knowing, all the support people had offered. None of it mattered, not when she was out in the dark alone. Her choice; help remained only a phone call away, at the insistence of everyone who cared about her. But still. Sometimes she wanted to walk in the dark by herself, and there was no way to stop her.

"Come see," she whispered, holding open the door and beckoning to him.

Groggily, Simon stumbled over to her, and pushed the screen door open further, then froze.

The sun hadn't risen yet, was just a bare hint of violet on the horizon. Iridescent fireflies were dancing in swooping patterns over the foothills. Green, gold, purple, pink, and blue lights were winking in and out, diving like falling stars. "Oh, my…."

"Magic," River whispered, slipping her hand into his. "Do you see it?"

"I see it," he whispered back, squeezing her fingers. He looked at River, and her captivated expression, and smiled too, in spite of everything. "I see it."

* * *

_**Tourism:**_

_Visitors to Serenity are advised not to wander out into the desert alone. The Sierra Nevada can be deadly at any time of year, and inexperienced hikers disappear all the time. Please contact our Community Outreach Representative if you wish a tour of the more friendly portions of our city and the sights in the area around Serenity. _

_**Serenity: A great place to take a break!**

* * *

__Author's Notes:_

The first half of this story was written in 2003, right after the end of season 7 of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and prior to _Serenity_-the-Movie. To find that so much of what I envisioned ended up in Dana (in _Angel_ Season 5) and the movie was a little disturbing, but also heartening; a kind of indicator that I was on the right track. I hope this fusion has worked for you, and I want to thank my betareaders from five years ago (the Horsechicks, Tara, Dawn) and now (same crew, with the addition of Emily) and all those who commented along the way.

And as promised: no jackalopes were harmed in the making of this story.

Songs:

"Ring of Fire" - copyright June Carter Cash and Merle Kilgore.

"Nobody Knows (the Trouble I've Seen)" - copyright Louis Armstrong

"Desert Rose" - copyright Sting


End file.
